


Long Time Coming, Long Time Gone

by fikgirl



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build, Slow Burn, eventual Bamon romance, not a Bonenzo fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-09 13:17:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5541413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fikgirl/pseuds/fikgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Season 6 AU. Elena sleeps, Bonnie lives, and Damon waits. At first. But seventy years is a long time and nothing remains constant but friendship, and even that is ever-changing. Or, snapshots of the months and years of Bonnie and Damon's ever maturing and evolving relationship as they move on without Elena.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Epigraph: August 2013

**Author's Note:**

> This story really will eventually be Bonnie/Damon romance, but I'm a big fan of character development, relationship development and slow build. Enzo plays his part, but the story is mainly about Bonnie and Damon.

_August 2013_

_Dear Elena,_

_It's been three months. I know that when you read this, that might seem like a lifetime or only the blinking of an eye. For us, it's been a long three months. I've been holding off writing because I want to tell you good things. I wanted to be able to tell you that we're all getting what you what you want for us, that we're happy. I wanted to tell you that Caroline and Stefan finally got their crap together, that Alaric is working through his grief, that Cheyenne Jackson whisked me off my feet and we're going to live happily ever after. Sadly, that is not this entry._

_We miss you, and it hurts me to say it, but the cliche is true. Life goes on. But this is Mystic Falls and these are our lives and because of that, you know as well as anyone that nothing is ever that easy. We will always be in the middle of whatever catastrophe or supernatural maelstrom is headed our way._

_There's a new Founder's Council. Sometimes, I forget how long the family lines are for these old southern families. There are some distant Lockwood cousins whom Tyler says he hasn't seen since he was in kindergarten and doesn't remember outside of a few family pictures and what's written in the family tree. There's another branch of the Fell family, and a few whose families aren't quite so old and "prestigious" but who've been "honored" to be "in the know." And, of course the Salvatore family represented by Damon Salvatore. For all that it's worth. Not a lot to say about the Council, except that it's typical of them. They believe that they know all that there is to know, and have no desire to share any information, or take our input. They humor Caroline because she's Liz Forbes' daughter and Matt because he's training to be a deputy, but they don't take them seriously. Which wasn't a problem. Until it was._

_Lily Salvatore and her heretics are still here. After what Kai did and what she helped him to do? I wanted her dead. I know that's not at all what you expect from me, or what anyone expects from me, but I wanted blood. I thought they were dangerous and couldn't be trusted, and I tried to warn the Council. Only Damon and Alaric stood beside me, and Alaric is seen as the vengeful grieving widower at best and the outsider at worse. Damon . . . is only as good as how sober and surly he's being on any given day. (I know that you want to read about Damon and how he's holding up, but that is a very long story for another day.)_

_Stefan and Caroline went to the Council and brokered peace with Lily's "family." That's what she calls them, how she thinks of them. She's written Stefan and Damon off as her sons, her blood, and still Stefan wanted to see the good in her. (It's been, or had been a point of contention between Damon and Stefan. That's changed now.)_

_You know that old saying about if something is too good to be true?_

_Peace was only good as long as nothing bad happened. It was an accident, a stupid accident with stupid college kids. A hit and run that would have left a human dead, but they hit one of Lily's heretics. It didn't matter that Valerie was "alive" and well, her "sisters" had to go all Mean Girls-The Craft and get revenge. Sadly, I think the Council would have looked the other way had their revenge stopped at the perpetrators of the crime. It didn't._

_The Council decided to fight back and it's been war ever since. The Council is ill-equipped for fighting magic casting vampires, and every strike they make is met by a counter strike. Lily's "family" is creating rippers: turning people and magicking them up to go into a blood lust. They set them loose in town, or in strategic locations. Two nights ago was at the swimming hole where the locals like to party._

_Mystic Falls has become a war zone and I don't think that's going to change anytime soon._

_\-- Bonnie_


	2. i. three months

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Damon. I am tired. I am bruised. I am battered. Two of your mother's new vampire soldiers managed to get away tonight after attacking a party in the downtown green. I don't have time for your bullshit. If you've decided to waste away in here, drunk and gorging on blood instead of helping us protect our town, fine. So be it." As she speaks, Bonnie steps closer to him, her words growing firmer and more menacing with each step. Though instead of increasing in volume, they get lower, softer until they are nothing more than a sibilant hiss that only those with vampire hearing will pick up. "But you will tell me why. You will look in my eyes and tell me why you've decided to give the hell up when every one of us is still putting up the good fight like we always do."

     Bonnie Bennett is recovering. Some might say that she's resting, but that old saying regarding the lack of rest for the wicked drums through her head, a perfect accompaniment to the pounding of the hammer thundering inside her skull. She may not be the wicked, but sometimes the lines blur. The bed of the truck is cold and hard against her back and she turns her head, blinking, before raising her hand to wipe the trickle of blood away from her forehead with a blood and soot covered hand. It occurs to her that she might have a concussion, but when the city is burning down all around her, that somehow seems to be the least of her concerns.

     "Bonnie!" The familiar, concerned cadence of Matt Donovan's voice joins the symphony swelling in her head and from her prone position Bonnie winces.

     "Bonnie!" Matt's voice draws closer, louder and the truck bed shakes as he adds his weight to it. The shaking jars her, making the spent witch well aware of the deep ache and pains in muscles and bones that she wasn't even aware she possessed until the latest round of battle with Lily Salvatore's neophyte vampires..

     The knowledge is there: if Bonnie wants Matt to stop calling her name and jostling her poor abused body, she needs to acknowledge him. So, drawing a sharp breath that twinges on something that is twisted or pinched inside of her in a way that it shouldn't be, Bonnie does just that. With a wince that she tries to hide, she pushes up on her elbows and blinks her eyes open.

   "I'm fine, Matt."

     The frown that etches itself into her childhood friend's face and the tightening of the corners of his mouth tell her that he's not buying what she's selling.

     "Really," Bonnie insists, maneuvering herself into a more upright position. It's a struggle, and one she doesn't have to undertake on her own as Matt slips a supportive arm around her back and assists. "I'll be fine." Change of phrasing, more fitting to the situation and maybe will replace that overly concerned look on Matt's face with something else.

     "Bonnie, you're - "

     "Wondering what happened to the last two vampires that were terrorizing the town square," Bonnie interrupts. If it can even be called a town square anymore. Seems that eventually the center of town always ends up looking like a scene from a post-apocalyptic movie.

   She can hear sirens in the distance. That's always been their cue to make haste away from the scene of the crime, since the ragtag remnants of the newest reincarnation of the Founder's Council - while inept at fighting the latest menace - isn't particularly lenient or patient with the 'dumb college kids playing hero' putting themselves in the middle of the fight. Never mind that Mystic Falls would already be a stain on the map if not for the 'dumb college kids,' and that they haven't clued in that Caroline and Stefan are vampires as opposed to having really good genes.

     Or maybe they have and they're just really good at playing dumb when it comes to someone else fighting their battles, so long as it's not a Bennett and a Donovan, who have no right or claim to any sort of recognition by the Founding Families.

     "Caroline went after them," Matt says. He slides into place beside Bonnie, helping her ease out of the truck bed and get her feet onto solid ground.

     Bonnie does her best to pretend said solid ground isn't slipping sideways beneath her. "We need to follow her."

     "You need to rest," Matt objects. His sweet face turns to stone, firmness etched into his blue eyes. "Look at you. You're injured, if nothing's broken, you probably at least have a concussion. And what about your magic? I saw that nosebleed. You're done." He looks pained, mentally if not physically and pushes on. "Caroline can get help from Stefan and Alaric. Besides, they're on a retreat."

     It's instinctive and involuntary, the way her hand comes up to wipe at her nose. She catches herself midway and forces the hand down, clenching it into a fist. It hurts to shake her head, but Bonnie does so anyway.

 Stubbornness and determination rear their heads. Bonnie pulls away from Matt, supporting her own weight and meets his firm gaze with a defiant one of her own. "Yes, they retreat and regroup and live on to raze the town another day. We can hardly keep up with Lily's vampire army. Every time we kill one, two more appear. If we can get them to the clearing - "

   "That plan's a bust, Bonnie. It's not going to happen, not tonight," Matt shakes his head.

   "Then when?" Bonnie's voice is loud, almost shrill to her ears. She's not angry with Matt and he's the wrong person to bear the brunt of her frustration. She knows this and she hates that feeling of uselessness and defeat that bubbles so closely beneath the surface. "When do we get the upper hand? When do we . . ." The words trail off because her body is done pretending that the world is upright and really wants her to accept that everything has a vertical tilt. Bonnie stumbles, listing a little and Matt catches her easily around the waist.

     "Looks like someone could use a boost." Enzo stands before them in a space that was empty only the blinking of an eye before. "You're not looking so good, Bennett."

     "Enzo." The name on Matt's tongue sounds like disgust wrapped in ten layers of bitter. "Get out of our way. You're not with us - "

     "You keep forgetting, I'm not against you either." Enzo barely spares Matt a glance as he clips off an answer. No one likes Enzo's Switzerland stance on the current state of things in Mystic Falls, but Bonnie isn't up to arguing with the vampire right now.

     "What do you want, Enzo?" Bonnie's voice sounds tired to her own ears. Or maybe that's the pain starting to bleed through now that the adrenaline rush is gone.

     "You." The answer is simple, though it draws a snort from Matt and a frown from Bonnie. Almost rolling his eyes, Enzo continues. "To come with me. It's Damon."

     Bonnie barks a harsh bite of laughter. She waves a hand at the chaos around them, and hates the fact that she can't be more assertive because if she stops leaning on Matt, she'll go face first into the concrete. "I can't believe - look around, Enzo! I can't handle Damon and his issues right now. Your sire's so-called family is out there destroying the town and killing innocent people- "

     "Last I saw, Stefan and Alaric had the upper hand. Despite his best efforts, the professor hasn't managed to fulfill his suicide wish yet. So no worries there. However, unless you want the hypocritical Founder's Council to find Damon like this, which will out him for what he really is . . . " The vampire trails off, his gaze pinning Bonnie in place while he allows the words to sink in. "I tried. Now it's your turn."

     The days are long gone and past when Bonnie would back down from the intensity of a vampire's gaze. Enzo didn't know her in those days, and she certainly isn't going fall back into old habits. Especially when she's died enough and been to hell and back - literally - to know that there are darker things than staring down a vampire.

    "You swear to me Enzo that Stefan and Alaric are all right. That - "

     "Yes, they are. You and your little gang of white hats won this battle. The heretics are in a retreat." Enzo shifts his weight subtly, the only sign that he's growing impatient. "If I'm lying to you, I know, you'll kill me."

     "I can think of far worse things than killing you," Bonnie promises darkly. While they may share a common thread in their friendship with Damon, she's made it clear how she feels about him taking a neutral stance in all things concerning Lily Salvatore. Even Stefan and Damon - when he's sober and cooperative - recognize the necessity in incapacitating their mother. Although they disagree on methods, but that too is not a worry for the here and now.

     Bonnie waits a beat and twists, turning her face up to Matt's. She sets a hand to his chest, "You should go home. I can handle this. I'll go with Enzo."

     The witch is well aware of how much Matt wants to argue, and how much he disagrees with her decision. It's not just his mistrust of Enzo, but his confusion regarding her friendship with Damon. Matt's grievances with vampires haven't vanished or been soothed over; if anything, they've grown more intense in the wake of Lily and the heretics. He doesn't understand the connection she shares with Damon, and has stated more than once that he doesn't trust Damon to not decide to speed up his reunion with Elena. All Bonnie has ever been able to give him is a 'Trust me,' which doesn't stretch nearly far enough.

   Though that is precisely what she asking for now, silently. Hoping her eyes plead her case in a way that she won't allow her words to do in front of Enzo. It's moot anyway; Enzo came to her so he knows how strong the tether is that binds her to Damon.

     Matt is silent for what feels like hours, but Bonnie knows is only mere seconds. He draws a breath and pushes it out slowly, and gives a carefully measured nod of his head. "Be careful." Whether he means she should be careful of Enzo or Damon, she doesn't know. It's possible that he means both.

     Giving her a parting hug, Matt steps away and Bonnie steadies herself with a hand on the back of the truck. She closes her eyes and waits for the world to right itself, and wills her stomach contents to stay where they belong - in her digestive tract. When she opens them, Enzo is unbearably closer than he was when she closed them. His nearness startles her and Bonnie tries to back away, but the truck is behind her and Enzo is in front of her, and there's nowhere to go.

     "You really do look a bit peaked," Enzo observes. Bonnie watches as he bites into his wrist and though she sees it coming, she still twists her head to the side when he offers her the bloody wound.

     "Don't be stupid. You'll pass out before we get there at this rate and a lot of good you'll be to Damon then." Enzo touches her cheek, and though she fights the urge to assert herself and shake off the touch, fighting is only going to waste energy.

     Bonnie takes a breath and sets her mouth to the wound. The coppery tang still makes her want to gag, but there's no rest for her yet. Not tonight.

 

**#**

 

The Salvatore Boarding House is a cross between the set of a bad slasher horror movie and a fraternity house. The fact that the latter brings little in the way of surprise to Bonnie's face and the former only earns a tightening of her face speaks volumes about Damon's current behavior and state of mind. Raucous music greets Bonnie's ears as Enzo sets to her feet just inside the foyer, and a barely dressed coed with glassy eyes and bites on her arms lists toward the pair before half-hiccuping into a giggle and sinking to the floor. The air is thick with perfume, hair spray, alcohol and the coppery tang of blood, and Bonnie catches a glimpse of a young woman in a dress as she moves a few more steps forward.

"You knew he was doing this and didn't _say_ anything?" Bonnie hisses at Enzo. "You didn't try and stop him?"

"Easier to stop the sun from rising," Enzo responds without missing a beat. He cocks a brow at Bonnie. "You were a little busy slaughtering baby vampires, as well, if I'm remembering correctly."

A part of Bonnie is too tired for Enzo and his bullshit. Too tired for Damon behaving like a spoiled rich brat who just got his favorite sports car impounded. It's cold and crass to compare Elena to a sports car, maybe just a little, but her well of sympathy began to run low near the end of summer and now it's nearly dried up.

"Get them out of here," Bonnie growls at Enzo, pushing wisps of hair out of her face. She hopes that she can at least count on the vampire to do some clean up. She strides away from him, her footfalls heavy for such a slight person. They're loud and determined, just as Bonnie is, to be heard by vampire senses over the deafening music.

Lifting a hand as she enters the great room proper, Bonnie speaks. Despite her lethargy and the hell of a night that she's had, her voice is clear and seems to carry over Damon's bad choice of party music. " _Inturbidis_."

As the last syllable leaves her lips, blissful silence reigns. Bonnie breathes a sigh of relief as it gets easier to hear herself think and to focus.

"I might have known. Judgey is here to ruin the party."

Damon's voice comes from up above and Bonnie raises her gaze to look up at him. He's perched on the railing, shirtless with a bottle of wine in one hand. Red covers his mouth and runs in rivulets down his chest, drying to a darker red in some places. It answers her unasked question of whether he is wearing wine or the blood of one of his many meals tonight.

"All those girls better be alive, Damon." Bonnie speaks slowly, annunciating every word as though she's speaking to a particularly slow and unruly child. It's not a thought that so far off the mark, really.

As though he can read her mind and wants to fit the picture of the petulant child, Damon frowns down at her with a half-formed pout. "Yes, Bon-Bon. They're all alive." He closes his eyes and sways a bit, listening to music that only he can hear. "I hear their heartbeats. I hear yours too. It's a lot faster and louder." Silvery blue eyes open and it's with a twisted, annoyed smirk that Damon gazes down at her. "Your heart is judging me."

"It's not my heart you have to worry about." A breeze whips past her and the passed out, half-naked coed is gone. Bonnie's glad that Enzo can be counted on to do something right. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Can't you tell, _Bon-knee_?" Damon says her voice in an annoying sing-song manner that makes her grit her teeth. The witch did not come here after the shit night chasing vampires to deal with a drunk, self-absorbed asshole of a vampire of a best friend. Except that he is her best friend, and she knows that she's the only one who can talk him off of whatever ledge he's crawled onto.

"I can tell that you're drunk. I can tell that you weren't out there tonight when we needed you. I can - "

"Needed me to do what?" Damon challenges. He takes another pull on the bottle of wine, tilting it all the way up and his head back as far as it will go. Lowering the bottle, he frowns at it and then looses it from his hand to drop two levels to the floor.

Bonnie jumps back a foot, a hand automatically rising up to protect herself. Even so she speaks automatically, the word forming on her lips before she's processed that she is going to say anything at all. " _Gelo!_ "

The bottle hovers, suspended in mid-air a mere foot before it would have crashed to the hardwood floor.

"That . . . could have been _me_ ," Bonnie glares up at Damon. There's a moment where there's a wash of guilt and regret across his handsome features, but it vanishes so quickly that Bonnie wonders if she didn't imagine it and isn't just seeing what she wants to see. What she hopes to see.

"But, it wasn't," Damon so not-helpfully points out, reminding her of the time he told her that he could have killed her but didn't. Which reminds her of the time when he could have killed her or let her die, and that's why they're standing here right now.

Bonnie rubs her forehead. She wants to go home to her warm bed. She wants to take a shower and wash away the grime and the blood, and just sleep for a day. Seldom does she get what she wants anymore. "Get. Down. Here." It's not a request. The witch folds her arms beneath her breasts and taps a foot, waiting for Damon to defy her. They both know that she can bring him down, but she doesn't want to have to escalate things to that level.

Evidently Damon doesn't wish to escalate things either, or he realizes that Bonnie will magically wrestle him to the floor if she must. He leaps down with that uncanny, feline, preternatural grace, landing in front of her wearing his trademark smarmy smirk. The one that always makes Bonnie's palm itch with the desire to slap it off of his face.

"You have great reflexes, Bon Bon." Damon plucks the bottle out of the air and sets it neatly on the mantle. "I knew you'd - "

"Damon. I am tired. I am bruised. I am battered. Two of your mother's new vampire soldiers managed to get away tonight after attacking a party in the downtown green. I don't have time for your bullshit. If you've decided to waste away in here, drunk and gorging on blood instead of helping us protect our town, fine. So be it." As she speaks, Bonnie steps closer to him, her words growing firmer and more menacing with each step. Though instead of increasing in volume, they get lower, softer until they are nothing more than a sibilant hiss that only those with vampire hearing will pick up. "But you will tell me _why_. You will look in my eyes and tell me why you've decided to give the hell up when every one of us is still putting up the good fight like we always do."

"Because Bonnie, there's no point." For someone drunk, Damon's words are surprisingly clear and unslurred. He doesn't back down, not that Bonnie expected him to do so. He leans into her space, blue eyes that are brighter than those drowned in a bottle should be. Brighter and harder at the same time. "I had one thing to live for and she's gone. I get to live six or seven decades without her, provided you don't decide to get yourself killed again like you have a habit of doing or get lucky and get cancer. So, I want you to tell me: what's the fucking point?"

Bonnie knew before she asks. She always knows. It always comes back to this. The same old song and dance, the same old routine. The constant reminders that Damon saved her life when he could have had Elena. The argument that his life has been put on hold because of her and that her life is an inconvenience. The suggestion that he only saved her because it was what Elena would have wanted.

It hurts. Bonnie would be lying if she said that it didn't. That Damon's words didn't cut her to the quick and twist in her heart a little (a lot.) She thinks back to a time when she didn't care, when what Damon Salvatore thought and felt about her didn't matter. Back when things were black and white, when he was nothing more than Elena's boyfriend, and her frenemy. Before they thought they were dying together. Before the prison world. Before everything shifted and shattered and reformed, and she started thinking of Damon as her best friend.

It hurts, and this is how it should play out like always: Bonnie backs down. Damon sleeps it off or whatever vampires do, and shows up at her house. He makes his damn pancakes and cracks jokes and sometimes will even talk to her through Miss Cuddles. The harsh words and even harsher feelings fade, the cold is replaced with warmth and all is right in the world again.

Not tonight. Maybe it's the repetition. Maybe it's that she's already tired. Maybe it's just time the gloves came off. Bonnie isn't aware of what her thoughts are, not really. Only one rings clear.

Not tonight.

Bonnie doesn't know which of them is more surprised when the flat of her palm finally tastes the pale, cool skin of his cheek. It's hard to determine which of them startles more by the sound of it reverberating in the room.

"Fuck you," Bonnie hisses. "Do you think that you're the only one suffering? The only one who lost Elena? Wake up! We all lost her, all of us! Kai's spell didn't just affect you, it affected _every single one of us_ who ever loved Elena. She is gone, not just from your life but from all of our lives."

Bonnie shoves at his chest. It must be unexpected, or maybe he is still a little drunk because the vampire takes a half step backwards. "Fuck you and your self pity, Damon. You waited one hundred and fifty years for Katherine, and you thought you loved her. It's half that time for Elena and you want to waste it having a pity party when she wanted you to live your life? You want me to feel sorry for living, to feel sorry for you when I'm the one who will never see my best friend again, ever?"

She doesn't want to cry. It's a sign of weakness and Bonnie Bennett is not weak. She angrily blinks away the threatening tears. "We were supposed to be in each other's weddings, and go to each other's baby showers. Our kids were going to grow up together, and we would grow old together and even after she became a vampire, we were going share stories and be there for each other, and she would know all the names of my kids and my grandkids, and yeah we had plans too. I won't ever get to see any of that. But you will, and it makes me sick that you act like it's the end of your fucking world."

   "I lost my best friend forever. All you can do is - "

   Stepping past him, Bonnie snatches up the bottle of wine and smashes it against the table. It explodes in glass fragments which rain around the room, around her, around Damon. Some settle into her hair, some into her skin. Twisting, Bonnie holds out a hand, a spell at ready and brings the edge of jagged glass to her throat. "Is this what you want? Why did you save me? If you're so miserable and you want Elena back so much, just say the word and you can have everything you want."

A glimmer of something almost like sobriety flashes in Damon's eyes. If not that then the flickers of something nearly alert peeking its head out of the dark hole and blinking into slowly growing light. He frowns and tilts his head, the look reminding Bonnie of what he is. What he really is. Not human, not natural. Supernatural, a predator. It's almost laughable that the stuff of scary stories is having a drunk pity party and the witch that keeps him in line is playing chicken with either bleeding out or catching tetanus.

Damon takes a step towards her and Bonnie holds up a hand. She doesn't cast a spell, the upturned palm is warning enough to make Damon pause in his footsteps no matter how less than sober he might be.

"Not another step," Bonnie says. Her words are softer now, but no less firm. No less sure than they were earlier. Tightening her grip on the bottle, she warns Enzo away with a sharp look and returns her determinedly focused gaze to Damon. "I am sick of your pathos. I am sick of your broken heart. I am sick of carrying the burden of survivor's guilt and sick of you making me feel like this is all my fault. I refuse to feel guilty for being alive and I refuse to bear the guilt of your choice. So, you tell me, Damon, why did you save me?"

It feels like hours. They stand there in a suspended state, no words passing between them. Only her question lingering in the air around them. She can hear a clock ticking somewhere, some antique ornate thing that she can't place at the moment. It chips away the seconds with every heavy breath she takes, counting down each moment that brings Damon closer to being reunited with Elena.

"A'right, this is too kinky even for - " A word and a flick of Bonnie's free hand and Enzo is shoved from the room, slamming hard into the wall opposite them.

Twisting her fist and lowering it, Bonnie drops Enzo to the ground. Her eyes never leave Damon's, though his gaze does flicker away to watch Enzo's progress.

"Bonnie . . ." Damon takes a step.

Bonnie presses the glass edge and winces. She can feel the pop of skin, the sting as the shattered, jagged edge presses into her throat. It's enough to stop Damon's progress. Eyes once clouded with alcohol and sorrow linger on her hand, on her throat and come back to her face. She wonders when she learned to read Damon so well. She can see that he's not sure of himself anymore, but hell, she's not sure of herself anymore either.

"Why did you save me?" Bonnie repeats, pressing the bottle deeper.

It only takes the half second between breaths and the world shifts, moving faster than she can comprehend. There are fingers tight on her upper arms, the coldness of the hard wall behind her, her head snapping softly against it. When she blinks, there is the firm press of Damon in front of her, moon pale eyes boring into her own from mere inches away.

"I won't let you die," Damon growls. His hands flex on her upper arms, not enough to truly hurt her, and he could if he wanted to. But enough to let her know that he's holding her there. He communicates in that touch that the tables have turned and he has the upper hand. "I chose you, and you don't get to die. You don't even get to threaten to die. Not on my watch."

Bonnie holds that pale gaze. "Tell. Me. Why."

"Because you deserve it, Bonnie. After all you've done. Everything that you've ever sacrificed for this town, for Elena. . . for me. You died for us and I thought you'd stupidly sacrificed yourself again when you sent me back from that prison world. I'm paying you back. You've earned the right to live."

"Then stop acting like you can't wait to put me in a coffin of my own." Bonnie gives him a shove, and it comes as no surprise when he steps back, releasing his grip on her. The witch reaches up and rubs her arms. It's more instinct than anything else; Damon didn't truly hurt her.

"And stop being this person. I know you, Damon. I know that there's more to you than this. There's a fight going on and we could use you. Not the drunk, blood gorging you, but the hard ass who kicks ass and doesn't take names, even if it might make things worse and fuck everything up."

Bonnie turns from him and makes her way to the door. She can feel Damon's eyes following her, but she's said her piece. She has nothing to add. For now, she just wants to go home and sleep. This will still be there in the morning, for better or worse, and they'll still have to deal with the repercussions and fallout.

But . . . not tonight.

"Give you a lift?" Enzo offers. He's standing at the door with a brassiere and panty-clad co-ed draped over one shoulder. Brunette, slender. No surprise there.

"Enzo . . ." Bonnie stops, takes a breath. Releases it slowly as she counts to three. "Can I trust you?" A part of her wonders when she became this person. The one who lets Damon Salvatore's words dig into her skin and carve away layers of her heart, the one who stands back and weighs human well-being against that of vampires. The one who doesn't see anything wrong with Enzo helping himself to Damon's buffet, so long as he cleans up and doesn't do any further damage.

"Just a taste, and she'll wake up thinking she had hell of a night and probably a few roofies," Enzo promises.

It's good enough for Bonnie. She steps out onto the porch of the boarding house and instantly feels the solid brick of the house at her back. Her feet dangle off the ground and she gropes at the cold, tight hand on her throat. Gasping and struggling for breath, she can't gather magic or the words for her spell. Nails claw and rend at undead skin, the only thought in her mind is 'Damon!'

And just as quickly, she's on her smarting knees, drawing huge draughts of air into her burning lungs. Bonnie sets one hand to the porch, steadying herself as she rubs at her throat and coughs. It's a few moments before she can look up and spot the body of a vampire a few feet from her, a cavern in his chest. From there her gaze travels to a pair of dark shoes, up the familiar form clad in dark pants and a dark t-shirt until she meets Damon's steely pale gaze.

The heart in his hand hits the porch with a deafening splat as the vampire closes the distance between the two of them in less time than it takes for Bonnie to blink her eyes.

"Why?" Bonnie demands hoarsely. Her body is indecisive. Her hands clutch his shirt, one fist pulling him closer and the other pushing him away. He's her best friend, her savior and she wants to take comfort in his presence. He's a loose canon, unpredictable and the witch can't help but wonder when he'll finally decide that his eternal love for Elena is worth more than her mortal coil.

"Bonnie - " Eyes colored silver by the darkness and moonlight search hers and something shifts in them. Something that Bonnie knows but can't put words to, dances and paints itself across his timeless features before it flickers and leaves her wondering what it was that she saw. His arms wrap around her, tugging her close. Maybe it's a sign of how tired Bonnie is, maybe it's the fear just now creeping in that she could have been a victim of one of Lily's baby rippers, but whatever it is, she allows it. She welcomes it, pressing into his embrace and breathing a choked sob, half-relief and half-fear, into his shirt.

It feels like hours that they stay that way, witch and vampire giving and receiving strength and support from one another in the warm night. It's not truly that long, Bonnie knows, but it's long enough that the cold of the porch starts to seep into her knees. Long enough that she shivers when a breeze blows, and just like that Damon scoops her to her feet and deposits her back inside the foyer of the boarding house.

"You're my best friend." Damon's words are quiet in the stillness of the moment. His hands rest on her arms where they held her so harshly earlier, only now the touch is gentle. His gaze is clear. "And if anything ever happened to you, I would lose my mind."

Bonnie stares back at him, then gives him a slow nod.

For tonight, it's enough.

    


	3. six months - interlude

_ November 2013 _

 

_ Dear Elena, _

 

__ _ Things are quiet, as difficult as that is to believe. I keep thinking it's the calm before the storm, but Caroline says that I shouldn't be so pessimistic. But that's Caroline for you, she's always willing to accept things and believe the best. She wants her 'normal life' so much that she'd bend the rules of time and space to get it, I think. I keep looking over my shoulder, and jumping at shadows because I think we're being lulled into a false sense of security. As per usual, Damon is the only one who agrees with me that we shouldn't be so quick to lower our guard. What does it mean when your boyfriend and I are on the same wavelength about things? My gut tells me 'nothing good,' but I would like to be able to take a page from Caroline's book. _

__ _ In case you didn't pick up on it, Damon is doing better. He still misses you like crazy, and I don't think he's moving on the way you'd want him to, but he's not binge drinking and partying with co-eds. I almost kind of miss having to drop in and kick out his latest new bunch of friends while Stefan, Caroline, or Enzo handled the compulsion end of things. Evidently following me around and hanging out at my dorm has become his new pastime. It's not all bad. Once you get past his penchant for old black and white movies, and accept that he will always cheat at board games (no matter what board game, even if there isn't a way to cheat, Damon will find a way to cheat), he's good company.  _

__ _ He's my best friend and sometimes I don't know what I would do without him. Yes, Caroline insists that we feed each other's paranoia and mistrust, but we also talk each other down, so that has to count for something, right? _

__ _ Don't get the wrong idea. Damon and I haven't become morbid and constantly together because of the fucked up supernatural situation that Kai left us in. We spend time with Alaric too, because Damon thinks that someone has to keep an eye on him. Somehow, that leads to Bonnie having to be the person to keep an eye on both of them when they go into one of their drinking binges. _

__ _ Alaric has his ups and downs. Some days are better than others. He actually goes to class and teaches every day sober, which is improvement from his coping mechanism over summer: get drunk or hunt and beat up Lily's vampires. Sometimes both at the same time. Now he reserves the drunk for weekends, and sometimes he suffers through Damon's movie choices. Those are some of the better weekends, because it's good to have backup and extra veto power over what we watch. _

__ _ I know that after my last entry, you're probably reading this and wondering how we went from World War Three to peace. Believe it or not, it was the new Founder's Council. Alaric was able to ingratiate himself with them and even get a place on the Council. The current mayor, Mayor Fell, brokered a deal with Lily and the heretics. They took possession of the Mikaelson Mansion (because that's not a bad omen) and as long as no one trespasses on their lands, and they get a regular supply of blood, they won't target anyone in Mystic Falls.  _

__ _ Before you say that seems a little too easy considering the hell they were raising a few months back? You're right about that. They also want access to all the historical archives and records in Mystic Falls and at Whitmore University. Lily's looking for something called the 'Phoenix Stone.' I've been doing my own research and haven't found anything on it, neither has Ric. But suffice to say, I'm not the only person who thinks that if Lily Salvatore wants it, then it's not something she should get her hands on. At least not until we find out more about it.  _

__ _ Stefan thinks that if we find it first, we should leverage it to make Lily and her heretics leave town. Damon thinks . . . well, I'm sure you know that most of Damon's thoughts have something to do with Lily and her heretics on the pointy end of a sharp stake.  _

__ _ In honor of the peace that we've shared, Lily is hosting a ball tonight and we've all been invited. I tried to sit this one out, since we all know that these things never go off without a hitch, but Damon says that's exactly the reason I'm going to go as his 'date.' That part didn't appeal, but this will give us a chance to possibly snoop around and find out what Lily really wants.  _

 

_ \-- Bonnie _


	4. six months

 

Damon has to do a double and triple-take when Bonnie descends the stairs of the Salvatore Boarding house. The witch is wearing a jewel green evening strapless evening gown. It cups and lifts her breasts, allowing a teasing hint of cleavage to spill out and then hugs her curves all the way down to flare of the waist and hips. Each step shows a length of toned leg peeking from the slit of the dress. 

The vampire isn't the sort to be caught speechless by a beautiful woman. He prides himself on being able to play down those things. He's forever sauve and can turn a phrase, always the charming and elegant one. For a few moments though, something freezes his tongue and he can only watch Bonnie's descent.

Damon isn't blind. He's always been aware of how attractive Bonnie is, even if his attention was always focused on Elena. He briefly debated between Bonnie and Caroline when he was trying to have his blood bag and get close to Elena, but deciding that Caroline with her boy crazy madness and need to compete with Elena was the easier target. Once he wondered why Bonnie settled for Jeremy Gilbert until he realized that it was because unlike her longtime best friends, she didn't have a line of boys beating down her door. He never understood that, but so involved in Elena that he never spent too much time reflecting on it.

He recalls teasing her about Kai's interest, which he later chalked up to the psychopath just wanting hands on Bonnie's magic. In hindsight, Damon can accept that maybe the long dead asshole had a dual interest in the little witch. 

"Hello, but I say, you look absolutely ravishing," Enzo drawls in a slow, low voice. He enters from the great room, carrying a glass of Damon's prized bourbon. He lifts the glass in a toast to Bonnie. "I'd say that I'm impressed but behind all that fire and snarling, I knew there was a jewel hidden in there." 

The saccharine, over-the-top and far too smarmy complement makes Damon roll his eyes in a mixture of annoyance and disgust, but it's the lilting smile that slowly turns up the corners of Bonnie's mouth that makes Damon want to vomit. 

"Thank you, Enzo," Bonnie's voice is gracious and somewhat soft. The green of her eyes is set off by the brilliance of the dress and somehow those seem slightly brighter, a little bit lighter in the face of Enzo's far too obvious attempt to suck up and garner favor. He is, after all, not one hundred percent happy with Lily at the moment. Otherwise, he'd be at the Mikaelson manor, hanging off Damon's mother's arm and not darkening the halls of the boarding house, drinking Damon's good bourbon and flirting in the most nauseating manner with Damon's best friend. 

"You look quite handsome as well, Enzo," Bonnie continues, reaching the last step. She dips her head a bit, a loose coil of hair curling against her neck. "I thought you would be attending with Lily's 'family.' " As lovely as Bonnie looks and as sweet as her voice is, there is still a faint note of disdain when she says the word 'family.' 

"Then I would have missed the opportunity to see you first," Enzo finishes the glass of bourbon and sets the empty to the sideboard table. Tugging down the sleeves of his tuxedo jacket, he moves to step toward the staircase. 

Damon beats him there, flashing to Bonnie's side before Enzo can cross the distance. Offering his arm, he flashes Bonnie his trademark charming smile, one that has melted many hearts and spread many legs. "You do look lovely this evening, Miss Bennett. You clean up quite nicely."

Bonnie's lips twitch in an effort not to laugh, but she can't hide the smile or the way her eyes twinkle in amusement. "You clean up pretty well, yourself, Mr. Salvatore."

Still, Damon doesn't miss the not so secretive look that passes between Bonnie and Enzo, as the witch looks past Damon for a brief moment. She takes his arm, stepping down to the landing.

"A creature as lovely as you deserves two escorts tonight," Enzo steps up to Bonnie's other side and offers his arm as well. 

"Couldn't get your own date, Enzo?" Damon challenges. He snorts. "Too bad. This one is taken." 

It's not petty jealousy born of a fear that Damon will lose one of his best friends, as Ric has accused him in his more sober moments (which are more and more frequent these days). Damon is not jealous of whatever silly flirtations Bonnie and Enzo wish to engage in, nor is he worried that Enzo will win Bonnie over and steal away with her heart, leaving Damon to wait for her to toss him scraps of her time. 

What fuels Damon is a lack of full trust toward Enzo. His friend still maintains his neutral stance, when it is clear that he will do anything for Lily. For reasons that Damon pretends not to understand, the other is beholden to his mother and will follow her into the fires of hell if she pretends that she will toss him her table scraps. He says that he will never make a harmful move against Damon and his group, but Damon knows how powerful blind love and devotion can be. If it comes down to a choice of protecting those he cares about or putting down Enzo, Damon knows what choice he will make. 

"I think it should be the lady's choice, mate." Enzo gives Bonnie a wink, standing easily and comfortably in her space. 

Bonnie twitters. She doesn't giggle, which would be bad enough. She  _ twitters _ like a little chirpy teenager with a crush. It makes Damon's eyes narrow at Enzo because Bonnie Bennett doesn't twitter. Bonnie is a bad ass witch with the power to hold off heretics at her fingertips. She's not a twittering schoolgirl. 

"Who am I to say no to two handsome men escorting me tonight?" There is something in Bonnie's voice that makes Damon mentally stand at attention. Something in the smile she passes to Enzo, so different than the ones she shares with Damon. That smile and tone of voice have that familiar invitation and yearning in it, the sort that Damon has many times seen offered his way by a multitude of women; never has he seen Bonnie grace anyone with it. 

"Although . . . I could draw this out. I've never been fought over before." This time she giggles. It's a cute little airy sound that Damon thinks should never come from Bonnie Bennett. Most especially if it's directed at Enzo like she's some air-headed co-ed. It makes him throw up a little in his mouth.

"I find that hard to believe," Enzo smiles, tucking her hand into his other arm. He glances over at Damon, and then laughs knowingly. "On the other hand, lass, considering the sorts of gents you surround yourself with, it's not so surprising. There is no accounting for taste - "

"Please spare us both the platitudes. Don't use Bonnie to fill a void just because Lily isn't showing you favor." Damon's voice is light, fitting the moment, but the words are cold and cutting. His eyes flash darkly, smug in victory and knowing he's scored a point against the other vampire. "What did you do to piss off Mommie Dearest?"

The temperature in the room drops by about ten degrees. Damon's smugness lasts all of five seconds before Bonnie sends him a glacial glare and frees herself from his arm. Sweeping ahead of both of them, head held high and shoulders pushed back, she strides to the door.

"We should go," Bonnie calls out frostily, crossing out into the cold Virginia night unaccompanied.

It's Enzo who impedes Damon's path, not backing down or moving aside when the other makes a low growling sound deep in his chest. Enzo sets his fingers to Damon's chest, unfazed by the darkness in Damon's eyes. "I know that she's just another one of your drinking buddies, but she's also a woman and sometimes women like to be treated like so. But you wouldn't get that, would you, mate?"

Damon harshly shoves Enzo's hand away and for added emphasis, gives his friend a shove as well. "What's that supposed to mean,  _ mate _ ?"

"Figure it out," Enzo says simply, turning on his heel to follow in Bonnie's wake.

Damon frowns, knowing that he's missed something but unable to piece together what exactly it is.

 

#

 

"If you glare hard enough, you might just manage to burn a hole in Enzo's head." Caroline's voice at his side makes Damon groan with annoyance. He gives a quick glance at the blonde vampire, then casts his eyes around for his brother. It's seldom that Stefan leaves Caroline's side, or vice-versa when in the presence of Lily and her mean girls. Of course his brother has chosen this moment to be nowhere in sight, leaving Damon at the mercy of Caroline. 

Instead of giving her the courtesy of a reply, Damon snorts and turns his attention back to watching Enzo lead Bonnie around the ballroom dance floor. Gracefully, Damon will grudgingly admit. They're smiling at one another, lips moving in flirtatious prattle that Damon stopped listening to two dances ago. Every now and then, Enzo will lean close to Bonnie's ear and say something, earning him a bright smile or open laughter from the witch. And every time Damon has to resist the urge to march out there and claim  _ his date _ , with a reminder that they're not here to have fun. They are supposed to be snooping on Lily. He doesn't, not because he knows it will probably piss them both off - that would provide immense satisfaction - but because Enzo doesn't know that the plan is to sneak off and do some snooping while 'the family' is otherwise engaged.

The man who sits the fence and is harboring a constant half-hard-on for Damon's mother does not get in on the good guys' plan.

"Since when did they get so chummy anyway?" Caroline asks, obviously not deterred by Damon's silence. "Since when is anyone so chummy with Enzo? Isn't he still sniffing around Lily's skirts?" 

Damon turns a cool gaze to her, missing the days when it would make her flinch away or back down. She's gotten too cocky and sure of herself. He blames Stefan. "Since when did you turn into a hypocrite? It wasn't so long ago that you and Enzo were besties." He takes a sip from the glass of champagne he's been holding for Bonnie. It makes him bristle a bit. Damon Salvatore isn't the man who stands on the sidelines and holds champagne glasses while someone else whiles away the time with his date. Even if said date is platonic and it's not so much a 'date' as fact-finding.

"We weren't besties," Caroline snorts. Damon can hear her eyes roll without looking at her. "We were conveniently - "

"Don't care." Downing Bonnie's glass of champagne, he hands the empty off to Caroline. "And they're not chummy. It's reconnaissance. Something you and Stefan should get a leg up on." With that, he's striding out across the dance floor, and sidling up to the 'couple' as Enzo twirls Bonnie out for a spin. 

The elder vampire expertly steps in, catching the witch in mid-twirl and twisting back around to shoot Enzo a grin. "Mind if I cut in?"

Bonnie gasps, her eyes narrowing at Damon. Enzo opens his mouth to speak, but closes it at a look from Bonnie and the slight shake of her head.

"It's been a pleasure, Miss Bennett," Enzo inclines his head and delivers a polite bow.

With a roll of his eyes, Damon whisks Bonnie off in the other direction before she can reply. He doesn't even miss a step in the dance when she slaps him hard against the shoulder.

"That was rude, even for you," Bonnie points out. The smiles from earlier have been replaced with a scowl and her eyes flash the dangerous Bennett fire. 

Damon grins. He  _ likes _ this Bonnie. He  _ knows _ this Bonnie. "You were distracted. I am getting you back on task. Or have you forgotten the real reason that we're here tonight?"

"I was not distracted. I was feeling out Enzo." Lowering her voice, the witch dances closer to Damon, an arm wrapped around his shoulder as she whispers her words into his ear. "He's unhappy with Lily, and now is the best time to get to him while his guard is down. He lives in this house. He hears things, Damon. He knows things."  Drawing back, Bonnie fixes her friend with an intense stare. "Did you really think I could be that easily swayed by a hot guy paying attention to me?"

The vampire knows that he takes far too long to answer, even though it's only a few seconds before he laughs it off with a weak, "Pssh. No. Not you Bonnie Bennett."

"You did." Bonnie stares at him. Stops dancing and gives him that look that makes him feel like he's five years old and got his hand caught in the sweets jar. It makes him want to apologize or go sulk in a corner, and it's annoying as hell that a tiny little spitfire of a witch does that to him when no one else can. 

Damon nudges her to get her moving again. Best not to attract attention to themselves. "He is not hot. You really are desperate if you're going to start thinking of  _ Lorenzo _ as hot. Especially compared to me." When in fault, deflect and redirect. 

Bonnie is quiet for a few seconds, lips pursed, green eyes still fixed entirely too intensely on him. Then her gaze softens a bit, the corners of her mouth curl up and she favors Damon with a sly little teasing smile that's all Bonnie and all his. "I don't know about that. I think he might wear a tux better than you."

"Oh, really, Bon-Bon?" Damon snorts and twirls her out, bringing her back in and sweeping her in a slow dip. "Obviously someone has had too much champagne." There's the familiar laughter as she's brought upright and swung to his other side, and the world realigns for Damon. 

This is how it should be.

 

#

  
  


Slipping away from the lavishness and revelry is far too easy. The way Damon sees it, they're either being spied upon and one of Lily's heretics - probably the mute - will jump out at any time and toss them out of the party. Or, Lily is satisfied that they're as complacent as the rest of the town and has underestimated them. He truly hopes it's the latter. He doesn't want to get blood on his tux.

Damon follows behind Bonnie watching her work. He knows that he's not much more than backup muscle until she finds what she's looking for. If she finds what she's looking for. She wanders the long hall, opening doors and whispering a spell softly on the threshold. 

"Can't you just do your witchy woo and summon everything you need?" Damon posed the question in the first room they peeked in.

"Only if I want to alert the heretics," Bonnie responds easily enough. Away from the dance floor, the music and the pretty bodies swaying, she's all business. The air of seriousness seems a contrast to the flowing dress she's wearing. "They siphon magic so they're very sensitive to it. I don't want them to know what we're up to." 

"Don't you mean what you're up to?" Damon prods.

Bonnie just gives him an eye roll from over her shoulder. 

The cloak and dagger slow investigation is getting boring for Damon when the witch stays planted on the threshold after casting her spell. 

"In here," Bonnie hisses at Damon, ducking into the room.

It's telling that he doesn't think twice about following her.

"What are we looking for, Glinda?" Damon looks up and down the hall before closing the door behind them. Turning, he sees that they're standing in a bedroom, sectioned off to a sitting room and bedroom area.

"I don't know yet." Bonnie moves immediately to the antique desk and begins rifling through. "But there's a lot of strong magic lingering here. Something is hidden here, or was."

"Well given that it's a party downstairs, and knowing Mother so well, I'm going to say that it's still here," Damon goes to the bookcase. He begins lifting books and rifling through. "Think she found the Phoenix stone?"

"I don't know. She found something."

Bonnie's voice has a distracted tone that makes Damon turn to look at her. The witch stands by the desk, holding a journal open. Zooming to her side, Damon peeks over her shoulder, "What did you find?"

"I'm not sure," Bonnie admits. The journal is large, nearly the size of an art sketchbook. It's leather bound and pages yellowed with age. Slanting words written in a precision script fill the page, ink fading to brown around the edges and the sloping loops. Resting the bottom edge against the shelf of her breasts, the witch reads from the journal. "The Phoenix Stone lives in magic and craves blood to awaken its ancient power. Forged of the earth, it requires the magic of life to restore that which has been sealed in time suspended. Only the sacrifice of life's elixir can draw forth the link and crack the seal of time - "

"Blah blah blah, " Damon interrupts. "What the hell is all that supposed to mean? If it's witch speak, translate."

"Blood," Bonnie says. She skims the passage and looks back up to meet Damon's gaze. "I would have thought that as a vampire, you might have figured that out. The stone requires blood to do its work. Whatever it's work is." 

"Nothing like the pricking of a few fingers," Damon notes. "Did you happen to read where it is? What it is? What it looks like? Maybe the reason that Mother Gothel wants it so badly?"

"It's not a crystal ball with magic answers, Damon." Bonnie gives him that look that she reserves for when she feels he's being particularly obtuse. She looks back down at the journal and then, quite abruptly, her head jerks up again. Green eyes peer at him with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "How do you know who Mother Gothel is?

Damon lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "Even I get bored and have to find something else to watch." Before she can make a remark, Damon moves his finger in a spinning fashion to indicate the room. "I should keep looking. You should keep reading." 

Stepping away, Damon has only taken two steps when a series of blood-curling panicked screams ring out in the distant downstairs of the house. He's peripherally aware of Bonnie giving a little leap, clutching the journal to her chest.

"That can't be good." Damon's eyes rivet to the door, and then do a quick circuit of the room. In the blinking of an eye, he's cataloguing vantage points, items to be used as weapons and possible escape routes. Plenty of the former, of the latter, there's only the french doors that lead onto the balcony. It will be a long way down, but he can carry Bonnie. 

If they can get there and she doesn't go off and get herself killed first.

Even as he has the thought, Damon makes his move. He doesn't consciously realize that he's moving, or even that he's already figured out the witch's next move. Not until he's in front of her, his body wedged between her and the closed door. 

"Where do you think you're going?" Damon hisses at her in a low voice. "We need to get out of here!"

"There is something wrong down there!" Bonnie growls in return, that familiar witch fire flashing in her eyes and underscoring her voice. There is a time and a place to be all ferocious and filled with girl power. Damon is going to say that this is neither that time nor that place. 

As though to punctuate her words, there is another scream and the sounds of chaos. Those are the sounds that Damon hears with his supernatural hearing, but he knows that Bonnie can't hear. The pounding of feet, the slamming of hands against doors, the racing of human hearts in panic. The smell and taste of copper, wrapped in urine and feces and the thickness of fear. Damon knows those sounds. He's been responsible for those sounds and those scents that only he can detect.

Those are the sounds and scents of a massacre. With sudden clarity, he no longer wonders if his mother has the Phoenix stone in her possession. The words that Bonnie read, ring in his head and it all becomes clear. Too little, too late, however and he can't do anything to save the party goers downstairs. He can't even worry about or look for his brother and Caroline. 

Right now, the only person he can afford to worry about is Bonnie.

"So you want to charge in there and what? Hope to save the day?"

"We can't just stay up here and do nothing, Damon! People could be dying down there." Bonnie clenches her fist, but she doesn't try to move past him. That's telling. She could push past him with magic. She could remove him from her path with a few well placed words. 

"News flash, Bonnie. We can't help them, but -" The vampire takes her by the upper arm and begins leading her toward the French doors. " - We're not staying here, either."

"Maybe it's all right for you to leave people to die, but you know that's not how I work. Whatever Lily is up to, we can't let her get away with it." Damon recalls days when Bonnie's counter-argument would have annoyed him to his core. That was back before her argument became just empty air as she allows him to lead her along. Years ago when he wouldn't have been considering how quickly he can render her unconscious if she protests too fiercely or tries to fight back. 

"If you think that I'm going to let you go down there and take a stand against her witch-pires, think again, Princess." Damon uses one hand to flick the latch and swing open the balcony doors, the other occupied with keeping a firm grip on the arm of his witch lest she does decide that she's the all powerful not-so-wicked witch and head off into danger. 

Giving her another tug, a bit more roughly than he intends and earning him a protest of pain for his effort, Damon steps onto the balcony and bounces right back into the bedroom. "The hell?"

Behind him, he hears the bedroom door swing open and before he has a chance to take the offensive, he's on his knees choking. His attention immediately shoots to Bonnie, and while he can see just the flare of a spark from her fingers, she suddenly gasps. The witch works her mouth, no sound coming forth. Her green eyes go wide with panic and she turns to Damon, but doesn't move toward him. Two attempts to get to her tell him why: he can't move. He doubts she can either.

It's only a few split microseconds to take all that in before his attention turns to his assailant. 

Correction, assailants.

The heretic, Valerie has a hand outstretched, eyes gleaming as she focuses her power on them. At her shoulder -

Damon swears he will kill Enzo.

"Let them go." The whip of wind and the door closes. Stefan stand beside Valerie and Enzo and Caroline has made her way over to Bonnie. "Relax, Damon. They're on our side." 

Just like that the pressure is gone and Damon is able to breathe again. It would be a merciful relief if he actually needed to breathe. Still, after over one hundred and fifty years, his body reacts on auto pilot and he gulps a breath of air. Then he whips his attention to Bonnie, using his vampire speed to get to her side as quickly as possible. She meets him en route, though she only manages one step to his many.

"You okay?" Damon catches her by her arms beneath her elbows. He listens to her heartbeat and her breathing. He does his own physical inspection of her. The damage is only superficial. Blood rising to the surface of her skin out of flustered panic, the pulse of her heartbeat fluttering at her throat in time to the rhythmic thudding he can hear in her chest. The faint hint of perspiration surrounds her, a tightness to her muscles as a testament to the adrenaline build up, however brief. Aside from that, she is fine. Which is a good thing for Enzo and Valerie, no matter what madness is currently falling from Stefan's lips. 

"Yeah," Bonnie nods her head. Always stoic, her voice is firm though Damon can read the lines of tension in her young face and the set of her shoulders. "Just surprised." Her gaze slips past Damon to the other vampires in the room. "Maybe a little annoyed."

"Me too." The corners of his mouth twitch just a hair, and hers do the same in response. 

Yes, Damon decides, she's all right. Which means . . .

"You want to explain yourself, Enzo? Siccing your heretic puppy on us like that?" Damon demands. 

"We had to be certain that you wouldn't attack until we explained ourselves." Enzo is far too calm for a man who might be narrowly missing having his heart ripped out. Of course, he doesn't know that he's that man and that may be the why of it. 

"Explain. I'm listening."

"There isn't any time," Valerie snarls. "Lily will only be distracted by her ritual for so long. You all need to leave. Now. Before she revives Julian. She is willing to allow you to live. He will not be so generous. I was barely able to cloak Stefan and Caroline to get them this far. The longer you stay, the more danger you will all be in." 

"You're saying a lot of words, but all I'm hearing is - "

"Ritual?" Bonnie steps in front of Damon cutting him off. Another time and he'd be happy that the witch is recovering from their faux attack so soon. Right now, he just wants answers from Enzo and his new friend. "She has the Phoenix stone." It's not a question.

"She has the Phoenix stone which needs a sacrifice . . . all those people downstairs - "

"Not all of them," Enzo says as though that will make a difference to Bonnie.

"That makes a difference how?"

"It's horrible yes, but your time is running out. You need to go!" Valerie snaps loudly, her voice echoing in the room. "We put up a spell around the house. It holds everyone here." With a flourish of her wrist she holds her hand out to Bonnie, and shows her a stone, roughly the size of a small rubber ball in the center. It's a cloudy white and reminds Damon a bit of the moonstone, except that it's glowing faintly at the center.

"It's a touchstone," Valerie explains. "It will amplify your abilities. I'll help you create an opening in the barrier. It won't last long, just long enough for you to get out." 

Bonnie reaches for the stone, then hesitates. 

"If I wanted to kill you or siphon your magic, it would be done by now," Valerie gives her hand a shake. "Take. It."

Damon snatches it before Bonnie does. He hefts it, and when it doesn't explode he hands it to the witch. 

"You know, if it was geared toward my magic, it wouldn't affect you," Bonnie points out quietly as she again reaches for the stone. She startles a bit when her fingers touch it, and Damon sees the spark of magic jumping from the stone to her hand.

"It has an affinity for natural witches, like the Bennett line," Valerie explains. "It recognizes you."

Closing her hand around it, Bonnie nods. Her free hand sets to Damon's arm and gives it a squeeze. "It's fine. I can feel the magic." 

"Come with me. Repeat what I say." Valerie is demanding, and is on the balcony with one hand held to the barrier and the other to the tear drop stone she wears around her neck. 

Damon has a million objections and a million reasons to not trust Valerie. He's about to blurt them all out, but Bonnie does so first. In just one, quiet word as she comes to stand beside Valerie.

"Why?"

"Because Julian is pure evil, and I know if anyone can put him down, you lot will find a way."

After that it's chanting, and then Valerie signaling that the barrier is down. 

"I can see it," Bonnie tells them. "Right in front of me." She steps forward, and whether it's to peer over the balcony or try to climb down, Damon doesn't know. Nor does he try and find out. He's there in a flash, scooping her up in his arms in a bridal carry.

"Let me guess, your plan was to scale the wall?" 

The witch doesn't get to answer as Damon makes the leap from the balcony to the ground. He hears her yelp of surprise before her face is buried in his shoulder, her fingers digging into the jacket of his tux. When she lifts her face to look at him, Damon slides her his trademark smirk. "Vampire, remember?"

"You could have warned me."

"Then I wouldn't have gotten to hear you scream like a baby." 

"Princess?" Bonnie arches an eyebrow at him.

"You know. Because you're so - " Damon frowns and shoves the explanation off. "Hold on tight, Bewitchy. We're headed home." 

 

#

 

_ Dear Elena, _

 

__ _ I'm not one to say 'I told you so,' but we were right not to trust Lily. She had the Phoenix stone and the wonderful ball was a cover for her to commit a massacre. The Phoenix stone is an old, old artifact that was created before the Other Side. It was a place meant to imprison vampires upon their death, to punish them for all eternity. Not all vampires, just the very worst of the breed. According to the lore, there used to be numerous of these stones, but now just one is left. They were carried by vampire hunters, a different breed than what Jeremy became. Upon finding and staking a vampire, their soul would be captured in the stone. Which brings us to why Lily wanted it: she wanted to bring back her one true love, a man named Julian. Now, at this point, I don't even know what sorts of evil Julian committed, but if it was bad enough that some ancient vampire hunter wanted to punish him, then he's probably not the best choice for Damon and Stefan's step-father. _

__ _ We managed to escape the massacre at the ball. Thirteen dead, because every ritual to revive evil long dead vampires requires a magical number, right? Everyone else . . . well, when they work together the heretics have some pretty impressive magic. Everyone at the ball remembers it as some sort of vendetta against Lily and her family gone wrong. It's just lucky that Lily and the others were there to save as many as they did. That's not me, that's the media spin and rhetoric. They've become golden now, and everyone is either thoroughly compelled or just doesn't realize that all of the dead were the members of the Founder's Council. Except Damon and Ric. For once, Ric chose a damn good night to crawl into a bottle and feel sorry for himself. Not that it matters. The Founder's Council is essentially no more. _

__ _ I don't know that we would have made it out without Enzo and Valerie. Valerie is . . . a long story. She was Stefan's first love, but she wasn't a vampire then. Just a witch who couldn't cast magic. There's an entire romantic tragedy there which I'm sure Caroline and Stefan will probably tell you all about. If they don't, make sure that they fill in the blanks, all right? _

__ _ Valerie has a personal vendetta against Julian. I don't know what it is, or why it is, and believe it or not, I don't care. Damon can't leave it alone. He wants the answers because he knows that people like her don't do things out of the goodness of their heart. The only answers I want are about this magical rock she gave me. It's called a touchstone and I can't even put into words how it complements my magic. It amplifies everything, and I can do so much more with it. I don't even start to feel weakened or tired, and yes, I'm smart enough to realize that something that powerful can't be all good. I'm careful with it, but as another weapon in our arsenal? I'll take it. _

__ _ Where does that leave us now? I don't know. None of us do. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. It's quiet again, too quiet. Lily has been seen in town with Julian. He's good looking, actually, you know if you go for the psychotic killing type. From a distance, he doesn't seem all that threatening, but I've learned that looks can be deceiving. Even Caroline doesn't seem that threatening and we know that could be dangerous long before she was turned.  _

__ _ My goal, for now, is to keep Damon from doing something stupid. He doesn't like the status quo, and you know what happens when Damon gets an idea in his head. I see plenty of nights of drinking and a bad movies, just to keep his focus elsewhere.  _

__ _ Wish me luck. _

 

 

  * __Bonnie__



 

  
  


#

 

_ Dear Elena, _

__ _ Yes, shocker of all shockers, it's me. Writing to you. If we had to take a bet on it, I'm guessing that I'm way more surprised by this turn of events than you are. I have to be honest though. It wasn't my idea. Bonnie felt that I should write to you. I think her words were something about it being cathartic and healthier than drinking outside of the Salvatore vault. Jury is still out.  _

__ _ I'm not going to pen sonnets about how much I miss you because I am not Stefan. I'm a man of action and not a man of words. Unless those words have to do with how badly I intend to torture and kill someone. I have so many words for the sorts of things I would love to do to certain people. Now, don't go getting upset. I don't mean real people. I mean Mommie Dearest and her new family. _

__ _ I'm sure Bonnie's told you, so I'm not going to sweat the details, but Mother doesn't play well with others. I wasn't a fan of the Founder's Council and the new mayor? Douchebag asshole. Worse than Richard Lockwood. But, all the same, I may be willing to admit that the way he met his demise wasn't of the best. I'm not going to grieve for him, but if everyone had listened to me, we would already have had a heretic free town and a douchebag dick mayor still running things. I use the term running loosely. _

__ _ Enough about that. I don't see any reason to spend all my time recapping for you a play-by-play when I'm certain that between Bonnie, Caroline and Stefan, you have details of the past few weeks in full technicolor.  _

__ _ I wish you were here. Not only because I miss you, and I do, but if you were here, you could talk some sense into Bonnie. I suspect - I know that she hasn't told you about Enzo. Yes, I may have snooped at her little journal here and there, but it was only to get a little inspiration of what to write to you. I should take the lack of Enzo as a good omen, but I fear your friend may have brain damage that she is afraid to write to you about.  _

__ _ Now that Julian is back in Lily's arms (and I disagree wholeheartedly that he's good looking, no matter what Bonnie thinks), Enzo has been coming around far too much for my liking. Not only does he drink my good bourbon, but he flirts shamelessly with Bonnie. Worse? She turns into some frightening Vampire Barbie clone and flirts back. I want to throw up just thinking about it. Our best witch shows up one night in a beautiful dress, being positively stunning (and thankfully, she will never read these words, so I don't have to deny saying them) and he's decided she's worth pursuing.  _

__ _ Don't fret. I will keep them apart. Our Bon-Bon deserves far better than being second choice. Even though, she's miles ahead of my mother and it shouldn't even be a contest. You know me, I'm nothing if not persistent when it comes to getting what I want. _

 

 

  * __Damon__



 

 

#

  
  


"Hell no." Damon clenches the glass of bourbon in his hand so hard that a crack appears, spidering its way from his hand. "Tell my mother and Julian to take their 'proposal' and go fuck themselves with it." 

" _ Repare _ ," Bonnie whispers, sweeping her hand over the glass as she leans closer to Damon. Her hand rests on his arm, small but strong fingers encircling his wrist to stop him from throwing the glass. She knows Damon well enough to know that will be his next move. 

"You say that as though you're going to have a choice." Valerie sits calmly on the sofa, an untouched glass of bourbon between her hands. The heretic is more subdued since the last time Bonnie saw her, and she feels a pang of sympathy for the woman. It's easy to see that life with Lily and Julian has not been easy on her, and that she's fallen even further from favor than Enzo. Though the latter is questionable. "It's just a gesture. Lily and Julian will do what they want, and get what they want. No matter who they have to hurt to do so."

"Yeah, well, Damon Salvatore gets what he wants too," Damon points out. "I don't kowtow to anyone."

"Maybe it's not such a terrible idea mate," Enzo suggests. "To keep the peace." 

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but Enzo's right." Caroline sighs from where she sits. "A sign of good faith. That we'll stay away from them and they'll stay away from us. It's just a house, Damon."

Bonnie flinches and winces when the glass hits the fireplace though she saw it coming before Damon even tossed it. 

"Just a house?" Damon snarls. He's in Caroline's face before Bonnie can stop him. "It's my fucking house, Blondie! Don't you see what this is? She's manipulating everything. Showing that she has power, and she's going to use it. It's a symbol and I'm not going to give her the satisfaction." 

"What happens when she comes to take it?" Stefan challenges. He slips protectively in front of his girlfriend, placing himself between Caroline and Damon. His gaze slips, ever so briefly and ever so subtly toward Bonnie. Silently asking her to do what no one else can do and get Damon under control. "Are you going to die for a house? Are you going to let our friends die for a house?"

Bonnie sighs and trails over to the standoff between the vampires. She sets a hand to Damon's shoulder. "I understand. The last thing we want to do is give Lily any ground. I wouldn't give up Gram's house either." 

"Bonnie, you're encouraging him?" Matt's been quiet, trying to stay on the fringe and out of the conversation as much as possible. But his mouth gapes, and blue eyes go wide in disbelief as he stares at Bonnie. "We know what they're capable of, and they're not subtly threatening another massacre if they don't get what - "

"I know that," Bonnie cuts Matt off smoothly. "I'm not ignoring that. But I know what Damon feels. If we give in to this, then what's next? How many times do we back down and look away before we give them power over our whole town?" She looks around the room at each and every person, her gaze lingering the longest on Valerie and Enzo. "You've so much as told us that we've only been at peace because Julian is feeding into Lily's whims. Neither one of you is really here is an emissary. You're here as a warning."

"Then heed it!" Enzo growls. "Give Lily the damn house. As much as each and every one of you might think otherwise, I think of at least a few of you friends. I don't make friends easily and I don't want lose any of them." Though he's speaking to the room at large, his gaze lands on Bonnie and stays there.  

Bonnie thinks that the crackle and snap of tension between them should be suffocating to everyone. She keeps her distance from Enzo despite the shared mutual attraction that's only grown since the night of the ball massacre. He makes her feel like a woman, not just a beer buddy and the resident witch. He makes her face heat and her palms sweat, and it's frightening for her to think about how easy it would be to surrender to what Enzo makes her feel. If only she could trust that she's not a substitute for the woman he can't have. She has no intentions of ever being anyone's second choice.

"And you won't," Bonnie reassures Enzo. "But we won't back down."

The argument goes on and around, and it's circular and never ending. In the end, Enzo storms out with Valerie, Damon breaks an entire bottle of bourbon and after cleaning up the mess, Bonnie finds Damon in his wine cellar.

"I was saving this for a special occasion," Damon says, holding up the dusty bottle of wine. "Since everyone, including my brother, is against us, I thought this was as good a time as any."

Bonnie places her hand atop Damon's, stopping him from opening the bottle. "Don't break into your secret stash just yet. I might not have a bloodless way to keep Lily out of the boarding house, but I might have a way to make sure she keeps her word about not harming another person in Mystic Falls."

Pale blue eyes study the witch intently, and Damon tilts his head, reminding Bonnie a little too much of a predator studying prey. It's one of those uncanny reminders that Damon isn't human, he just does a very good job of passing as such. "Do tell. What's going on in that head of yours, B?"

Bonnie purses her lips and then frowns. "No."

"Not feeling 'B'?" Damon asks. It's the first time since Enzo and Valerie arrived that she's seen his mouth twitch a bit.

"Definitely not." Bonnie clinks a nail against the side of the bottle. "I've been working with the touchstone Valerie gave me. I've researched it, and what it can do. And what I can do with it. Remember the Traveler's spell?"

"Kind of hard to forget," Damon takes another look at the bottle, then slides it back in place. "Wait . . . you can put back up the Traveler's spell?"

"Not quite that big scale, but I can build a barrier to keep Julian, Lily and all the heretics right where they want to be so badly. Here." Bonnie indicates the boarding house by tapping her hand against the nearest wall. "Forever."

"And you couldn't do this somewhere else? Like where they're living now?" Damon inquires.

"Not as easily. I know the boarding house. It's familiar. My magic is familiar to it and I'm attuned to it." Bonnie pulls a bottle of wine randomly out of the rack and brushes the dust off the label. "Besides, we're already here. I can start setting up the foundation of the spell."

"They can't just siphon the magic away?"

"Not if I tie it to the earth and the touchstone." Bonnie reaches out and takes his hand. "I know it's not perfect, but - "

"Entombing my mother and her heretics for the next few centuries? I think it's damn near perfect. Outside of killing them, of course."

Bonnie laughs. "Of course." She smiles up at Damon. "So, we have a plan?"

"Full steam ahead, you scary bad ass witch," Damon laughs.

Bonnie flips the bottle around toward him. "Let's drink to it. 1992. I hear it was an excellent year. Some of the best things came out of 1992." 


	5. seven months - interlude

_ December 23, 2013 _

 

_ Dear Elena, _

 

__ _ For the first time in years, I can say that Mystic Falls is quiet. No crazy vampire doppelgangers out to get revenge, no Originals, no hybrids, no mystical evil witches, and no heretics. There is a light dusting of snow on the ground, downtown Mystic Falls is sparkling with colored lights and those horrible bits of fake green pine wrapped around telephone poles. It's peaceful . . . and you are missed. _

__ _ Lily, Julian and the heretics aren't dead. (According to Damon that's unfortunate and I'm inclined to agree with him.) However, they're locked away where they can't do anyone any harm. As a show of power and an act of trust (insert my eye rolling here), Lily and Julian asked for the Salvatore Boarding House and agreed they would leave the towns people alone if they got what they desired. Everyone thought it was a great idea, except for Damon and again, I was inclined to agree with him. Except that we didn't have any other options outside of killing them all and realistically, I knew we couldn't accomplish that without heavy casualties. Especially when we don't know how many of the Mystic Falls residents, innocent people, might still be under compulsion by Lily's group. _

__ _ The next best thing was to lock them away. Again. Unfortunately, we lack a Gemini coven - a good thing in my opinion - and the means of creating another prison world. I know the words to the spell, I know the elements required, but I don't have the power or the deep know how to do such a thing. Also, I'm not so sure that I would have wanted to create something like that which tied its existence to my very life. I'm not entirely unconvinced that doing that didn't make Jo's father - and all the Gemini Coven leaders before him - a little bit of a nutjob.  _

__ _ I did the next best thing. Since coming back from the prison world, I've been more proactive. I need to learn about my magic and how to master it. I need to know what I can do, and I need to know it before the next big threat comes charging in town. I've been studying. A lot. The grimoires from the Martins. The things left in the Gemini Coven library that Stefan arranged to have shipped back to Mystic Falls. (And no, I didn't ask how he pulled that off). All the old lore that Alaric amassed. What I'm using a lot of words to explain is this: I locked them all in the boarding house.  _

__ _ Before you ask, no, they can't siphon the magic away. I had to use an elaborate spell that's tied to the Leonids Meteor Shower and involved the Touchstone. They're sealed up good and tight for a good, long while.  _

__ _ Damon's plan was to wait until they dessicate and go in and kill them all. It sounded great on paper, until I started doing more research and spoke to Valerie. (She and Enzo were not at the boarding house when I cast the spell.) Shortly before we made our move, Lily tied her life force to Julian's. If he dies, she dies. Damon has no problems with this, but Stefan does. Stefan keeps reminding Damon that she is still their mother, and I do hope that he holds some hope for reconciliation. (I really think that Damon has some deep seated issue with his mother that stem from far earlier than discovering she was turned and abandoned them, but you know Damon and it's not a subject to poke at too deeply.) However, since Valerie revealed that Lily was the mastermind behind Kai's spell, I don't really care one way or another if she lives or dies. But . . . and there's always a but. . . _

__ _ The ritual used to bind Julian to Lily also employed the Phoenix stone. Valerie thinks that the intent was to call upon its power to strengthen the bond, but I think it may have done more than that. I need to do more research, but if I'm right, then the Phoenix stone may have made Julian and Lily nearly immortal. Killing one will kill the other, but killing one will be damn near impossible. It's like Silas all over again, except this time the stone needs to be destroyed and the bond broken before taking down either of them.  _

__ _ Lily Salvatore is as crazy as fuck and really will do anything for the man she loves.  _

__ _ That's one of the reasons I side with Damon on wiping her off the face of the earth once and for all. I do get the abandonment issues. I don't understand how any mother can put the needs of anyone else above her own child. I love you, Elena, I do. And I don't blame you because it's not your fault, but a part of me will never forgive Abby for deserting me. A Bennett witch, she should have gone to Grams; I've done the research, there were plenty of other ways to protect you and save you. Especially when we all know that in the end, the world came tumbling down anyway. _

__ _ Okay, enough of that. This is supposed to be an epistle telling you of all that you are missing while you do a great cosplay of Sleeping Beauty.  _

__ _ Caroline has designated herself the Queen of Christmas, and yes, it's just as crazy and overboard as you can imagine. The Lockwood Mansion looks like Martha Stewart elves were set loose and then they threw up Christmas all over the place. She even added fake snow to the mantle and the corners of all the rooms. The tree however, is beautiful. It's huge and sits in the foyer by the stairs and Caroline had to walk up the stairs to put the star on it, but it works. She's already planned Christmas dinner, and - wait for it - secret Santa. Jeremy is even coming home for this, although he wasn't very happy when Caroline insisted on including him in the secret Santa and texted him a picture of the name he drew. (Translation: Caroline drew for him.)  _

__ _ As much fun as she's having, Caroline's only gripe is that Valerie is coming. She invited Enzo and then he asked Valerie as her plus one. Things are tense between Valerie and Caroline, for obvious reasons, but despite that it's hard to completely cold-shoulder the heretic. No, I don't trust her completely, but we couldn't have done what we did without her input. If we knew her real reasons for hating Julian and turning against Lily, it would help, but she keeps her mouth shut regarding those details. _

__ _ Even though I didn't get her name for my Secret Santa (I drew Matt), I still got Caroline a gift. It's a spa day at Delaney's, and we know how much she loves that sort of thing. I can't wait to report back with the Secret Santa gifts. We all know it's going to be interesting. _

 

_ \-- Bonnie _

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello!
> 
> Yes, I'm still here. I hit a bit of a slump, with work and real life. Full time working mom with a kid involved in full time activities, so finding time for writing and editing is quite the feat. For those of you who are hanging around and reading, I'm back with a few chapters, and thank you so much for coming back or just waiting in the wings. To my new readers, welcome. I promise the next chapter will be longer.


	6. merry christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonnie saves the sweet potato casserole, Caroline's turkey turns out to be better than the one for Thanksgiving, Alaric stays (mostly) sober, and Damon keeps his Jeremy and Tyler baiting to less than a half dozen barbs combined. Stefan dotes on Caroline and compliments her, and Enzo (wisely) cuts Valerie off when she tries to subtly challenge Caroline or get too cozy with Stefan. All in all, Bonnie thinks that that is the hallmark of a successful holiday celebration.

Alaric is past the point of listening to Damon complain about the day's festivities. He believes he's heard everything the vampire has had to say - three times at least - about Caroline decorating, usurping his home, and putting he and Stefan to various tasks to make the day perfect. His plan was to stay home and get lost in a bottle of whisky - it didn't matter which so long as it blotted out his thoughts and left him blissfully unaware for the course of the holiday - but Bonnie and Caroline had other plans. 

_ "We know that you're missing Jo, we're all missing someone this holiday season," Bonnie perched on coffee table in front of him while Caroline took his half-empty bottle of scotch out of sight. "We're not here to say that your pain is less, or that we understand your specific loss, but we do understand loss. My father is gone, Caroline's mother is gone, and we're all going to feel the void without Elena. But, family is what you make it and we've made ourselves family. We need to be together. All of us."   _

_ Reaching for his hand, she gives it a squeeze and leans toward him. The witch glances toward the kitchen where Caroline disappeared and then lowers her voice. "Besides, if you don't come, that's one less person to help us balance Caroline's holiday pep." _

_ "I heard that!" Caroline calls out. "I am a vampire, remember?" _

Despite his need to want to wallow in self-pity, it was hard to say no to the pair, hence why he's here now, slowly nursing a glass of bourbon while listening to Damon carry on about the insult of having to prepare his special stuffing with Caroline trying to make edits to the recipe. Alaric doesn't know what is the oddest part of that: that Damon has a special recipe or that Damon was cooking with Caroline.   

"It's about time you made it," Damon says from his place by the bar, topping off his own glass of bourbon. "I was starting to think that you were going to ditch and leave us all to deal with Blondie on our own."   

Knowing that Damon isn't talking to him, Alaric is pulled from his thoughts and glances around. He's not sure who Damon is addressing until halfway through his words Bonnie enters with Matt at her heels.   

"Bonnie. Matt," Alaric greets them with a lift of his glass.  

"You're late." In the blinking of an eye, Damon has moved from the bar to stand in front of Bonnie and pressing a glass of amber liquid into her hand. As she opens her mouth, he waggles a finger at her. "Don't say that you don't drink it. It's the good stuff."    

"I'm not late until all the guests are here. Is everyone here yet?" By everyone, Alaric knows she's referring to whether or not Jeremy has made it in, since his flight was cancelled twice.    

"I'm not waiting for everyone else." Frowning, Damon leans forward and sniffs at her. Alaric blinks and wonders if he's seeing things or if he should cut back, but Bonnie's reaction tells him that he's spot on.    

Bonnie takes a step back, shooting Damon a surprised and confused look. "Did you just sniff me?"    

"That's creepy even for you, Damon," Alaric calls out.    

"You smell like . . . hand sanitizer and processed gravy," Damon points out. And Alaric assumes that it's because Damon is Damon, he leans toward Matt and sniffs him as well. It's comical the way the deputy jumps backwards even as Damon says. "So do you." He pronounces the words like they're an assault on his personal being.    

Bonnie rolls her eyes and laughs. "That's because Matt and I spent the afternoon helping at the shelter." She takes a sip of the bourbon, and Alaric notices that despite her complaints about it, the witch doesn't wince or make a face. She waits a beat and off Damon's blank look, she shakes her head. "A lot of people lost family and homes when Lily and the heretics launched their rippers back in fall. The Fell family donated one of the buildings they own in town and turned it into a shelter while people are getting back on their feet."    

"They were looking for volunteers to cook and serve meals, and hand out gifts to the kids," Matt adds. "When I mentioned it to Bonnie, she was more than happy to help out."    

Damon frowns at the pair. "You didn't mention it to anyone else? Some of us might have been willing to help out."    

Alaric nearly chokes on his drink. "You? Working in a shelter?"    

"But you did help out," Bonnie pats Damon on the chest as she slips past him. "With a check written out for a generous donation."    

"I did?" Damon's brows rise. "When did I do that?"    

Bonnie smirks, and Alaric does a double-take because the smirk reminds him far too much of Damon. "Last week. Somewhere halfway through your second bottle of tequila."    

There's silence while that sinks in, and Alaric braces himself for an explosion. Because Damon is an asshole and it's not like he likes it when anyone gets something over on him.    

Instead, Damon just grins at her, and lifts his glass in a salute. "Well played, Bon-Bon."    

"That's all?" Alaric asks.    

Damon shrugs, "Bonnie did well. Besides, do you know how good it will look for the Salvatores to be so sharing and giving? It's just another gold star beside our family name."    

"Yes," Bonnie drawls. "That's exactly why I did it."    

"Oh good, Bonnie, you're here!" Caroline blurs into the room and hugs Bonnie. "I need your help. Hey Matt. So, anyway, remember your Grams great recipe for sweet potatoes? I think I might have messed it up a little and I'm so hoping you can help me save it?" As the words tumble from Caroline's lips without a break, Alaric supposes it's a good thing that vampires don't actually need to breathe.    

"No way, Blondie. Bonnie is my guest."    

Matt snorts. "This isn't kindergarten. I don't think you get to 'claim' Bonnie."    

"No one asked you," Damon says.    

Bonnie hugs Caroline in return and stands. She hands her glass over to Matt and gives Damon a smile that Alaric can only describe as 'saucy.' "I think there's enough of me to go around. You can share, Salvatore."    

As the ladies exit, with Caroline explaining to Bonnie exactly what she did to the recipe, Alaric can't help but laugh at the shocked look on Damon's face.    

Matt runs a hand along the back of his neck and says what Alaric is thinking. "I think she's been hanging around you too long."

 

#    

Bonnie saves the sweet potato casserole, Caroline's turkey turns out to be better than the one for Thanksgiving, Alaric stays (mostly) sober, and Damon keeps his Jeremy and Tyler baiting to less than a half dozen barbs combined. Stefan dotes on Caroline and compliments her, and Enzo (wisely) cuts Valerie off when she tries to subtly challenge Caroline or get too cozy with Stefan. All in all, Bonnie thinks that that is the hallmark of a successful holiday celebration.    

"Here's the rest of the plates," Jeremy proclaims carrying a pile of said plates into the kitchen. "Where do you want them?"    

Bonnie is self-nominated as kitchen clean up since Caroline did do all the heavy lifting, with a little help from Stefan and Damon. Happily with the former, grudgingly with the latter. She thinks she's just as surprised as anyone else when Jeremy usurps Matt's offer to help and shoos the former quarterback off to play catch up with Tyler.    

"Rinse them and find room in the dishwasher, if you can," Bonnie says, giving him a smile over one shoulder. She's currently up to her elbows in dishwater and suds, scrubbing the pans that can't go into the dishwasher.    

"Dishwasher it is," Jeremy grins. He steps up beside her, stealing the hose to rinse the plates down the garbage disposal.    

"Thanks." Bonnie stops scrubbing and holds the pan up for inspection. Not happy with the residue left in the corner, she resumes her scrubbing. "You didn't have to do this, you know? You are kind of a guest."    

"Depends on how you look at it," Jeremy shrugs and gives her that boyish smile that still makes something twist a bit and go slightly askew in her chest. "If I'd been here for all the stuff with Lily and the heretics, I would have been staying at the boarding house. Which is where we'd be having Christmas dinner if you hadn't imprisoned them there."    

Bonnie lifts her eyes to his, studying him. Trying to figure out if there's a hidden message in there. Maybe a scolding or lecture. She nips at her lip a bit when she can't and explains anyway, "You would have been another target and what you're doing is just as important. Even if you and Ric thought you should keep the rest of us in the dark."    

Turning back to her pan, she scrubs at it another few seconds. "And I know how it must seem to you, me locking them in the boarding house - "    

"If it was the best course for your magic, I'm not going to argue about it," Jeremy cuts her off smoothly. He twists away to open the dishwasher, giving her the time to admire the broad expanse of his shoulders and feels that twisting again. "I trust you and your magic, Bonnie. I know you did what was best for the spell to work the best. I'm surprised that Damon and Stefan gave up their home, but that's all."    

Adding the last plate, he straightens up again and meets her gaze dead on. "I am a little hurt that you didn't at least tell me what was going on. Was it because of the vampire hunting thing? We weren't trying to keep everyone in the dark . . . just Elena. Which is . . ." Jeremy pauses, and there's a flicker of sadness and loss that colors his handsome features.    

It's instinctive that Bonnie steps closer to him. That she reaches out with a soapy hand before she thinks about it and sets it to his arm, stroking her palm over his skin. "I know," Bonnie whispers and she does. Elena's absence is felt, only it's different from the loss of her family, of Caroline's mother because in the back of their minds they know she's not really gone. Just lost to them.    

"It wasn't a revenge thing," Bonnie looks up into his dark eyes, and it's a little hard to think and focus for a moment. Because of that twisty thing, because she and Jeremy never quite figured out what it was between them and they never quite renewed it or dissolved it either. It just is what it is, elusive and taunting. Her thumb absently strokes the skin of his arm, and when his hand lands atop hers, she feels goosebumps trail up her arm.    

"Then what was it?"    

"You . . . you were safe." It seems so simple and yet so complicated an answer. Safe from Mystic Falls, from the heretics, from her not having to think about what might be left unsaid and unresolved between them.      

Jeremy's thumb brushes the back of her hand, and Bonnie swears the temperature in the kitchen goes up a few degrees. "If I'd known, I'd have come back. I could have helped."    

"Helped with what? Getting in the way?" Enzo's voice is unexpected in the quiet warmth of whatever is happening between them. Bonnie jerks her hand back from Jeremy's arm, turning back to resume her scrubbing. Later she'll wonder why she does it, just as she'll wonder why there's heat crawling up her neck and into her face, and why she can't quite bring herself to look at Enzo just yet. "I hear you Gilberts are good at that."    

"What do you want, Enzo?" Jeremy's voice is a near growl. "Bonnie and I were talking."    

"Glasses?" There's a beat while Enzo sidles up to her other side, and Bonnie doesn't have to look back to know that he's no doubt walking with a swagger and a bit of a smug smile on his face. His shoulder brushes Bonnie's as he places the glasses gently on the counter beside the sink. Something in his voice is quietly challenging, although there's nothing to challenge in the post-dinner kitchen. "I didn't grow up much in fancy surroundings, but from what I've taken away, these fragile things need to be hand washed, yeah?"    

"Yes, they do," Bonnie glances at the vampire and can't help that the corners of her mouth curl up in return at the smile he's directing toward her.  It's casual and friendly, with a hint of amusement that twinkles in his eyes. If she feels a bit of a pull, she ignores it and chalks it up to the strange tension that was already brewing in the kitchen. "Thank you, Enzo. I'll take care of it."    

"Yeah, we'll take care of it," Jeremy snaps, his words clearly meant to be dismissive.    

"Are you certain you can handle it, luv?" Enzo leans an elbow on the counter. His attention doesn't waver from Bonnie and he doesn't act as though he's heard a word Jeremy has said. "If you need another set of hands, mine are always available to you."    

"I think that Jeremy and I will be able to handle it," Bonnie hears the soft bubble of laughter in her voice, and the way Enzo's smile broadens tells her that he hears it too.

The vampire's gaze slides from Bonnie's and over her shoulder to Jeremy, then back to Bonnie's. She can almost feel Jeremy bristling at her back, his hackles raised though all that reflects on Enzo's face is sheer amusement. "If you change your mind, just call out." He reaches then for one soap covered hand and gives her fingertips a gentle rub, "Careful not to let these hands turn into prunes?"

"I think that that is an excellent concern and one that I am here to remedy," Damon says in a sing-song, waltzing into the kitchen. "Time for a changing of the guard, Bon-Bon? I'll wash, you dry."    

Emotions war inside of Bonnie when the elder Salvatore makes his presence known. A part of her wants to chastise him for his clear intentions to annoy Jeremy and Enzo. A part of her is relieved because Damon is familiar and comfortable, and she doesn't have to worry about what's happening with Jeremy or what Enzo's intentions are.    

"You know that I am far less likely to drop anything," Damon shoulders his way up to the sink, bumping Enzo out of the way. Although it's plainly clear that Enzo wouldn't have moved if he hadn't wanted to do such a thing.    

"I don't think we need - " Jeremy begins, but Bonnie cuts him off with a soft shake of her head.    

"It's all right," Bonnie says, as though Damon's interruption is an inconvenience to her and not the subtle annoyance that it's meant to be to the two males in her presence. "We can catch up later, Jeremy. You'll be here a few days, right?"    

It soothes him. Bonnie can see the way his face and eyes soften when he looks at her. She doesn't know what to make of how it makes her happy, sad and wistful all at the same time.    

When both Enzo and Jeremy are gone, the former with a swagger and a laugh, the latter with a final scowl at Damon, Bonnie slides over to the drying side and picks up Jeremy's abandoned dish towel. She slaps the sponge into Damon's waiting hand. "Ok, I'll bite. What was that about?"    

"You're welcome," Damon says. He flips the pan around and takes to the task with vampire elbow grease that makes Bonnie's attempts at cleaning the annoying spot look like a joke.    

"Excuse me?" Bonnie asks.    

"I rescued you. You're welcome." Damon rinses the pan and hands it to her. He picks up another pan and begins to tackle scrubbing it as well. "You were clearly floundering and unsure of what to do when there were two men fighting for your attention. I stepped in to avoid maiming and bloodshed since it was obvious that you had no idea how to put an end to the pissing contest."    

Bonnie snorts. "I want your imagination. They were not  _ fighting for my attention. _ Enzo was trying to annoy Jeremy." He was succeeding as well.    

"Oblivious and naive. That's adorable. If you go for that sort of thing."  Damon flicks a handful of soap bubbles at her and Bonnie swats him with a towel. Laughing he dots bubbles to her nose, and plays along when she hip checks him. Because they both know that without magic, there's no way she could easily move a vampire unless he wishes to allow himself to be moved. Still it's a lighter moment, without the edging tension from earlier and Bonnie is grateful for it. For him. Sometimes, moments like this surprise her because she never thought there would be a day when Damon could balance her and make things feel normal.    

"Let's say that they were fighting over you," Damon continues. "Who would you pick? The dirty old man with a hard on for my mother or the cheating boy sniffing around at your heels?"    

"Are you trying to make me feel better about it or worse?" Bonnie returns, frowning at his description.    

"Neither." Damon hands her the pan and moves onto one of the glasses. "Stating it in such a way as to point out that you can do better than either."    

"Why?" Bonnie asks. She stops what she's doing and turns to Damon, waiting until the vampire stops and meets her gaze. "Why the sudden interest in my love life when you've never cared before?"    

"It's not sudden. I always thought you were setting the bar a little low when you hooked up with Baby Gilbert."    

"And you cared where I set the bar because?"    

"Because you were our resident witch and we needed you on your game. Love makes people do really stupid things. Look at me."    

There was a time when Damon's frankness would have annoyed her, possibly even hurt her feelings a little though she would have been loathe to admit it. She's always shared a particular type of love-hate with Damon, hating those few times she thought he was something more or that their relationship could be more when he would only turn and pull the rug from under her. Hearing that she was a second thought and a pawn  _ does _ hurt, but it's a brief hurt because it's the reality of then and not the reality of now.    

"So, you're primary concern regarding my love life was that I would get distracted by my boyfriend and not be able to save your sorry, tired ass someday?"    

Damon flicks more bubbles at her. "First, I'm equal opportunity. Girlfriend or boyfriend. Second, there is nothing sorry or tired about my ass. Have you actually seen my ass?"    

Bonnie rolls her eyes, batting away the bubbles with the towel which she then slaps him with. Hard. On said ass. "More than I would like." Given Damon's penchant for wandering around in a towel and dropping said towel when the mood pleases. Sadly, she can admit that he does have a nice ass, but there's no way Damon will ever get those words to pass her lips.    

"And now?" Bonnie prompts.    

Damon pulls a face, and it never ceases to amaze her how much Damon Salvatore can convey with just one look. "Losers. They're both losers who are not worthy of your time. Trust me, you can do much better. Also, if you have a boyfriend clinging to your hip? That seriously cuts into my Damon time." 

#

The Secret Santa exchange goes far better than Bonnie thought it would. Enzo is her Secret Santa, and Bonnie is pleasantly surprised by the gift certificate to one of the boutiques in town. She's not exactly the frilly sort, but Caroline exclaims so happily over it that Bonnie can't help but wonder if Enzo got pointers from the blonde. Still she thanks him, ignores Damon's snort of derision and presents Matt with his sheepskin lined gloves to replace the ones that he's wearing that currently have a whole in the small finger.

"Because you don't ever splurge and buy nice things for yourself," Bonnie tells him with a hug. She gets it; for Matt, it's always been about the necessities - food, clothing, shelter - even now when his financial status is a little more stable. Someone has to make sure he gets the nicer things in life.

After gifts are out of the way, Jeremy presents Bonnie with a separate one. She's flustered because she didn't get him anything, although he reassures her that he's not expecting anything. The scarf is beautiful, silky and soft. It matches her eyes and brings out the green, but scarves aren't really her thing anymore than trendy boutiques. It makes the slightly reaching thing inside of her reach just a little less, and makes her wonder if Jeremy even knows her at all. She wonders if she would have appreciated this gift more years ago, or if maybe the connection was never what she thought it was.

Damon shoots her a look that seems to say 'I told you so,' and it says a lot when the vampire she used to love to hate knows what sort of gifts to give - or not give - to her. When she can, Bonnie slips away just to clear her head and put some distance between herself and Jeremy. She ducks into Mayor Lockwood's old office. He's been dead for years but she still thinks of it as his office.

"You didn't like your gift."    

Bonnie jumps, her hand going to her chest as she spins on her heel. "God, Enzo. You scared me."

"Sorry luv." He neither sounds nor looks sorry. He leans in the doorway, crossing one ankle over the other. "Did you like your gift?"

"You sneak up on me to ask me that?" Now that her heart is slowing down, Bonnie is able to snark a little in his direction. "Yes, I did."

"You're a terrible liar. Even if you weren't, I can hear your heartbeat. I know you're not being entirely truthful with me, Bonnie."

"Maybe my heart is racing because you just tried to give me an annual Christmas scare?" Bonnie cocks her head, folding her arms across her chest. "I didn't dislike it. I just didn't know what to expect when I found out you were my Secret Santa so I was surprised that it was so simple and normal and . . . casual."    

"Because we're such good friends that you expected something more intimate?" Enzo pushes away from the doorway and moves toward her. Slowly, as though giving her space to decide if she wants to stay where she is or put more distance between them.  "Or did you expect the still beating heart of a virgin?"    

"I wouldn't even expect that from you. Not anymore." Bonnie moves, but only to lean a hip against the desk and she doesn't mind when Enzo follows. Gone are the days when she would feel unsettled by having a vampire in her personal space. Dying, being returned to life and dying again makes her perspective different. Her magic still notices that something isn't quite right about them, but it's become background noise to her now.    

"Good because harvesting virgin hearts is so tedious and difficult anymore." Enzo settles beside her, carefully keeping his body angled just so away from her. It's enough to make Bonnie curious. "What if I told you that wasn't your whole gift? That perhaps I held back a little something?"    

"What? Why would you do that?"    

"Because I didn't want to share with everyone that I'm not as simple minded and shallow as everyone seems to think I am." Enzo produces a small bag from behind his back and holds it out to Bonnie. "The rest of your gift."    

Bonnie opens her mouth, then closes it. Her gaze drops from Enzo's to the bag and back again, before she takes the bag in hand. It's heavier than she expects. She pulls out the layers of tissue paper and then finally a small, ornately carved wooden box. Opening it, the inside of the box is lined with a soft silky material.    

"It's um . . . well I'm not sure what you'd call it exactly. But from what I understand it's made specifically for storing important items, particularly magical ones. The wood is supposed to be very good for holding protective magics so you would cast your protection spell on it and place whatever you wish to protect inside. I thought you might prefer to keep the touchstone in there instead of in that silly little pink and gold music box that you've likely had since you were eight."    

The vampire pauses to take an unneeded breath and adds, "Before you ask, I didn't compel it or steal it. I  _ borrowed _ money from Caroline."    

Staring at the box, Bonnie is without words. She opens it and closes it several times, and finally looks up at Enzo when his words fully register. "How do you know where I keep the touchstone?"    

"Don't give me that look. I'm not a creepy stalker. I'm over a hundred years old, and I know a few things about women."  Bonnie doesn't realize how close he's sitting to her until he bumps her leg with his. "Also, I may have dropped by just to check on you a few times."    

"So you are a creepy stalker."    

"I prefer to think of it as friendly concern."    

"Next time express it by knocking on the door." Bonnie runs her fingers gingerly over the woodwork, touched and amazed that Enzo picked something like this out for her. It makes her re-think everything she knows about the vampire, and everything she thinks she knows about their relationship.    

"Would you invite me? If I knocked?"    

Smiling up at him, Bonnie sets her palm lightly to his chest. "I would. Thank you, Enzo. I love it."    

"Better than the gift certificate?"    

"Yes, definitely better than the gift certificate." As she peers up at him, Bonnie is suddenly aware of something else. With a secretive smile, she steps closer and lifts up to her toes. She's not sure which of them is more surprised as she presses her lips lightly against his. His lips are soft and warmer than she expects. After a confused beat, his lips yield, moving against hers in the softest, slowest of explorations. No tongue seeking, just a molding and meshing of mouths every so careful and curious, testing unexplored waters.    

Bonnie tries hard to ignore the fact that she is blushing as she breaks the kiss, dropping back to her flat feet. She knows he can likely hear her racing heart, although that tugging eager heat that settles in her gut is for her and her alone to know about. Her lips part to speak, and she's momentarily distracted as she watches Enzo run his tongue over his lips as though tasting her there.    

Surprisingly, her voice is calm, even if she isn't. Bonnie looks upward and points. "Mistletoe. Merry Christmas, Lorenzo." Then she's taking the coward's way, turning and fleeing back toward the festivities.    

But not so fast that she doesn't catch Enzo's "Merry Christmas, Bonnie," called after her.

#

 

Bonnie awakens the next morning to the sun's rays casting a prism of color on her bed as it shines through the lattice work of snow and ice that gathered on the outside of her window overnight. That and the wonderfully delightful mixed aromas of bacon and fresh-brewing coffee. As much as she appreciates nature, she could sleep through the former. The latter is a different matter. No sane person sleeps through coffee and bacon.    

She's smiling slightly when her feet hit the floor and she slides them into her sheep's wool lined slippers and meanders to the bathroom. There are worse ways to start her day than waking up to her best friend cooking her breakfast. After brushing her teeth and unwrapping her hair, Bonnie heads down to the kitchen. The blaring of old eighties music reaches her ears before she's halfway down the stairs, and by the time she leans in the doorway of the kitchen, an ear-to-ear grin stretches over her face.    

Damon dances in front of the griddle, making pancakes, crooning along to the music. Bonnie takes a moment to admire him, lean and toned, wearing a fitted black t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans. The words will never pass her lips, because the last thing she needs in this lifetime or the next, is Damon getting an even bigger ego, but she's never been blind to the fact that the man looks good. It's easy to see why women throw themselves at him and why Katherine would have chosen him as her playtoy. Watching him move, appreciating how comfortable he is in his skin and the way his hips sway, or the lopsided open grin that tilts up his mouth when he sees her are the guilty pleasures that Bonnie will take to her grave.    

"You look awfully comfortable in my kitchen."    

"Good morning, Samantha." Damon greets. "I am awfully comfortable anywhere. Especially in your kitchen." His grin turns smug and he flips the spatula in the air, catches it and then flips the pancakes.    

"Show off." Bonnie gives the appropriate, predictable response as she makes her way to the coffee pot. She grabs a mug along the way and pours herself a cup of hot, steamy morning fuel. "What are you doing here?"    

"You didn't think I would let the holiday go by without cooking breakfast for my favorite little witch, did you?"    

Bonnie adds just the right amounts of cream and sugar to her coffee. She gives Damon a glance over her shoulder as she stirs. "It's the day after Christmas."    

Damon releases a much put upon sigh. "It may be the day after Christmas, but this time of year, the holidays are not officially over until New Year's Day."    

"Is that the way it works?" Bonnie parks her hip against the counter. She closes her eyes and savors the scent of the coffee wafting to her nose before taking a slow sip, savoring that first taste as much as she does the aroma. The witch practically purrs.  "Mmm....coffee."

"Careful. What have I told you about enjoying your first cup of the day too much?" Somehow Damon manages to make his voice teasing and light while still having the words wrapped up in an undeniable leer.    

Bonnie can think of plenty of things Damon has said about that. Some playful, some dirty. Some earning him an eye roll and some a harsh look. None of them encouraged right now. "Don't ruin this happy holiday moment by being a pig, Damon."    

His eyes crinkle at the corners and the blues shine brightly in the kitchen lights. He winks at her and snaps off a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am." Twisting back to the griddle, the vampire shows off again, this time flipping two pancakes onto a plate. Bonnie hates the lilting giggle that escapes, that he'll catch her and see her amusement. That her indulgence will only encourage to continue like this in the future. (Though truthfully she likes. Still not fully understanding this new connection between them, but as strange as it is, Damon's friendship is something she's come to treasure in a short span of time.)    

"Come on, time for breaky," Damon croons. He flashes around the room, a blur in her eyes until he presents the pancakes with a flourish: complete with whip cream fangs and blueberry eyes. "As soon as you eat up, you get your surprise."    

Halfway into her seat, Bonnie pauses. Turning her gaze up to him, a not quite fully formed question pushing its way through her brain and into her mouth. "Surprise?" The witch is part curious, part-fearful, because with Damon it could mean anything. Damon's in a good mood, but that doesn't necessarily bode good omens. His idea of a surprise could be anything from Lily's heart in a box to the last season of Scandal -  that she missed while being trapped in a prison world - on blu ray.    

"Yes," Damon says simply. He seats himself across from her with a plate of his own, where instead of vampire fangs, the blueberry eyes peek out from beneath a pointy witch hat. There are all sorts of things Bonnie could say with regards to what his pancake art says about his psyche, but she wisely doesn't give him the opening.

"Don't get your judgey panties all in a bunch. No one died. Not even anyone who deserved it." With that, Damon digs into breakfast, and the little rumble she feels in her stomach banishes any thoughts that Bonnie might have about pursuing an interrogation.

A comfortable, companionable silence settles between them. The need to fill the empty space with words and chatter is alien territory them as they've never fallen prey to that. At first, trapped in 1994 it was easier to just ignore one another (unless Damon felt the need to bait her). Later, idle chatter often turned to bickering which led to one of them, usually Bonnie, leaving the breakfast table. Somehow, they found their groove and the silence that was strained became bearable and then a comfortable cloak. Sometimes, their eyes meet as Damon lifts a bite of pancake to his mouth or Bonnie reaches for her mug of coffee and they communicate on a level that doesn't need words. And Damon will quirk a lip and Bonnie will roll her eyes into a half-smile and return her attention to her food.

It's not something she likes to think about, but she will miss this when it is gone. As close as they are, Elena's absence remains a tangible, heavy thing between them. Her name might pass their lips, but the weight of her loss is not a topic that they have ever really discussed since Bonnie pulled Damon back from the edge. He will watch her sometimes when she pens an entry in her journal, when he's lurking in her space and soaking in her companionship (though he will deny that is what is he doing), but he does not ask what she writes. Bonnie knows that he often takes a bottle of bourbon and goes to the tomb, where he will stay all night. Elena is a chasm that separates them and a glue that draws them together, but also the elephant that they do not acknowledge.

"And where has Bonnie gone?"

Damon's voice pulls Bonnie from her thoughts as she raises the last bite of pancake to her mouth. "What?"

"You zoned out on me, Bon-Bon. Penny for your thoughts?"

"If you're only willing to pay a penny, then you don't get to hear them."

"As if anything going on in that little witchy twitchy brain of yours is worth more than a penny?" Damon teases. Her fork barely touches the plate when Damon swoops in and lifts it. "I'll clean up in here. Your surprise is under that pathetic piece of greenery that you call a tree. Next year, we're getting you a real tree."

"There's nothing wrong with my tree!" Bonnie protests. Yes, it's a tiny thing, three feet tall and pre-lit, but she wasn't here last Christmas - literally and figuratively - and she couldn't bring herself to pick out something fresh cut to decorate the living space that she spends little time in anymore. Most days, and some nights, are spent at the Lockwood Mansion because that's where Damon is. The sparse decorating that she has done is just so the house doesn't feel so empty. 

"Only if you're a seventy year old grandmother collecting cats and tchotchkes," Damon calls after her. 

Bonnie chooses to not dignify that with a reply and pads into her small living room. Whatever Damon might say about her tree, he has taken care to plug it in this morning so that the lights twinkle at her in a multicolor rainbow when she enters the room. Her surprise isn't hard to miss; her sad little tree has only an old wood carved manger scene beneath it to take up space. The gold foil wrapped box stands sentry alone this morning. 

Lifting it, Bonnie gives it a gentle shake. When she was five, she shook a box hard and ended up shattering the porcelain figure inside of it, and has sent learned her lesson. Whatever it is, it moves about, but Damon has it well padded. It speaks volumes about their friendship that he would go through the effort of packaging and wrapping and not just toss it at her over breakfast. 

The witch perches on the edge of the couch and slips a nail beneath the edges of the wrapping, lifting the tape. Whatever he might say about the holidays, Damon is no stranger to them. The gift has the earmarks of being professionally wrapped, or wrapped by someone who's had a good deal of time to master the art of properly wrapping a gift. She pulls aside the paper and opens the box, lifting the tissue paper out of the way and -

"Oh!" The gasp that escapes Bonnie is both one of surprise and awe. 

Nestled in the box is an antique picture frame of polished silver. Inlaid with flowers and whorls, it has the weight and craftsmanship of something well made, and with a history about it. But that is not what makes her gasp. It is the picture within the frame, one of her grandmother at a younger age, with a version of Bonnie who isn't much older than three or four. They aren't even looking at the camera, but rather smiling brightly at one another, a loose ribbon coming from Bonnie's unruly hair as she touches her grandmother's cheek. The happiness and the love captured in the photo, memories of better days and easier times when the future was bright and spread out before them both is enough to make Bonnie swallow a lump in her throat and blink back the tears in her eyes. 

"This . . . Damon . . . where . . ." Bonnie can't form complete sentences, and as much as she hates to show this level of sentimental emotion in front of Damon, she can't help but bring up a finger to wipe away a tear that's launched its escape from her left eye. 

"When you died," Damon says. His voice comes from right behind her, but Bonnie doesn't startle. In the back of her mind Bonnie knows he hovers. The couch shifts as he sits down beside her, his voice carrying a somberness that Damon doesn't reveal often. "After we found out that you were dead, and your father was dead, the house reverted to Abby. She couldn't handle coming back and dealing with all the arrangements, so we packed up the house and closed it up. Elena found an old box of pictures and stored them at the boarding house with your things that she and Caroline couldn't bear to give up.

"A few months ago when you were asking about your old photo albums, I remembered that box."

Bonnie twists a bit and peers at Damon through misty eyes. "This picture wasn't in that box."

"Because I dropped the box and that one fell out. It was old and I thought it could use a frame." Damon says it with his usual levity, as though it doesn't matter and he didn't do anything out of the ordinary. "God knows you're ruining enough pictures taping them up around your vanity mirror."

He's playing it off because he's Damon, but he knows what this picture means to her. He knows her and Bonnie knows that he's aware that she knows what he's doing. She swallows another lump and nods her hand. Her fingers trace the frame. "It's a beautiful frame."

Damon shrugs. "It was something I found laying around. Figured you and your old lady taste would like it."

Bonnie should let it go. Damon doesn't show depth very often and he's quick to backtrack when he does. It would be easy to say thank you and laugh it off, but something in Bonnie doesn't want to do that. She can't do that. They've come too far and gone through too much, and sometimes, they just need to be honest with each other. Not just when they're calling each other out on stupidity, bull shit and wrecklessness.

"I thought this picture was lost forever. Grams had it on her mantle. When she died, I broke the frame and I put the picture on our mantle. I always meant to get a frame for it, and then one day it was gone, but with everything else . . ." Finding the lost photograph fell on the back burner and took second place to Originals, hybrids, dopplegangers, and Travellers. Her father must have found it and shoved it in a drawer or a photobox. 

Reaching out, Bonnie almost takes his hand and changes her mind. Instead she twists fully around and wraps her arms around him, drawing the vampire into a hug. "Thank you, Damon. This is one of the best Christmas gifts I've ever gotten."

His surprise ripples through her. Bonnie can feel it in the tension of his body, before Damon uncoils and his arms come to wrap around her. He gives her a tight squeeze, resting his chin atop of her head. "You're welcome. Merry Christmas, Bonnie Bennett."

"Merry Christmas, Damon Salvatore." Bonnie closes her eyes and just relaxes in the moment. These are few and far between, when they let themselves simply be, and that's as much of gift as anything else. 

"We're still getting you a real tree next year." 

Bonnie tilts her head back to look at him. "Damon?"

"Yes, Bonnie?" Damon's blue eyes twinkle, the Christmas lights reflected in them. They crinkle at the corners in smugness but also what Bonnie has come to identify as a bit of fond affection. 

"Just shut up and let me thank you." With that, she drops her head to his chest. This time as she nestles beneath his chin, her best friend is silent. Letting them both enjoy the moment. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there are some Bonnie/Jeremy and Bonnie/Enzo moments here. It's all about character growth and development. Bonnie's relationships with others are important and help her find her way and figure out things; they also help the foundation and growth that occurs in Bonnie's and Damon's relationship. Ultimately, this is a Bonnie/Damon story, but there will be stages and steps to getting there. I beg patience and indulgence, even if you're not fond of a pairing. Everything shall happen in its time.


	7. seven months - interlude ii

_December 30, 2013_

_Dear Elena,_

_The Christmas celebration went off without a hitch. No burned food, no random evil, no cat fights between Caroline and Valerie. Jeremy and Tyler came home for it, and the two of them and Matt ended up getting drunk off shots, but that was more amusing than anything else. Especially watching the hang overs in the morning. Or the way Tyler's wolf metabolism cured his far more quickly than Jeremy or Matt's metabolism alleviated their pain._

_Oh, and I may have kissed Enzo._

_All right, I did kiss Enzo, but there was mistletoe involved._

_I know, you know me better than that and you know there's more to the story. I really am a terrible liar. I can't even lie to you when you're not here to give me that look that says 'I know you're not telling me everything, Bonnie Bennett.' Between us, I'm not even sure what everything is and also, I haven't told Caroline or Damon yet. Damon is doing that whole non-trusting thing. In a way, it's kind of endearing. It's what I imagine it would be like if I had a big brother - no one is good enough for me unless he declares they're good enough for me. On the other hand, I think he's a little afraid that it might do something to our friendship if I were to date anyone. He won't come out and say that, but he's mentioned a few times that drinking with Alaric just wasn't the same once he hooked up with Jo. (I did point out that being a vampire, coming back from the other side, thinking Damon was dead and being turned human again might have had an effect on Alaric's psyche, but Damon chose to ignore that.)_

_I'm straying from the topic, and if I know you, you're getting impatient and want me to get back to the kissing Enzo part of the story._

_It happened on Christmas, and I think I surprised him just as much as I surprised myself. He was my Secret Santa, and he gave me a gift certificate to La Belle. I know that you're familiar with it since Caroline has dragged us in there so often. I'm pretty sure that Caroline told him to give me that gift, and while it's not totally my cup of tea, it's the thought that counts right? He didn't settle on a book picked up off the New York Times Bestseller rack or an Amazon gift card, so I was flattered. That wasn't my only gift though. He came to me later with a box. It was carved out of wood and lined, and handmade and exquisite. He bought it for me to store the touchstone inside of, or anything else I wanted._

_I guess I was shocked. And touched. Not that I'm saying I've gotten horrible gifts over the years, but no one has ever gotten me something so ... magical. I know that isn't the sort of word I would normally associate with Enzo, but there it is._

_No, I'm not crushing on Enzo. I'm not starting to get romantic feelings about him either. But I really appreciated the gift. And he's hell of a good kisser. I guess one hundred years of experience will do that to you. Of course, I should also point out that I haven't seen him since then. The last I saw of him was when he told me good night after the Christmas dinner and faded into the night. I know I shouldn't care but it does make you think twice when someone who's an annoying fixture disappears after being kissed. Was it me, was it him? And the big question: why do I care?_

_I wish you were here. This is the point where you would tell me that I'm starting to sound a lot like Caroline. Besides, it's Enzo, right?_

_Speaking of Caroline, in other news, she's finally arranging that big trip to New York City to watch the ball drop in Times Square. Stefan is all on board of course, but I think that he's either afraid to tell her "no" after all the Valerie crap, or just plain afraid to tell her "no." Let's face it, how many people are brave enough to tell Caroline "no" when she has her mind set on something?_

_Aside from me. As fun as the trip sounds, and I know how much we used to plan for it, I'm going to sit it out. I know that Stefan and Caroline will be all cute and coupled up, and Damon and Ric plan on hitting as many bars as they can. I can do without all the madness and mad crush of bodies in a public spot. A little bit of calm and quiet at home is just what the doctor ordered for me. I will be spending the night in front of the couch, with a bowl of popcorn. The ball will drop on my television screen, in the blissful warm and relaxing quiet of my living room._

_I know it's corny, but if I don't write before then - Happy New Year, Elena._

_\-- Bonnie_

 


	8. seven months - happy new year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonnie and Matt spend New Year's Eve together, and get an unexpected party crasher.

December 31, 2013

 

    "Thanks for stopping by to spend New Year's with me." Bonnie settles onto the couch beside Matt, tucking the bowl of popcorn between them. "You didn't have to, you know."

    "I know that I didn't have to," Matt grins at his friend. "I wanted to, Bonnie. You shouldn't have to spend the holidays all alone."

    "You get that I wanted to be here alone?" Bonnie glances at him as she lifts the remote, but doesn't start the movie.

    Grabbing a handful of popcorn, Matt pops it into his mouth. "Why's that? I figure that you'd want to get away from Mystic Falls. Go up to the big city with everyone and watch the ball drop. You and Elena and Caroline used to talk about doing that all the time when we were kids. You were going to wait until the perfect time, and then make the trip, no matter how cold or wet it was, remember?"

    "I do," Bonnie's mouth curls up in a slow, small nostalgic smile. Every year when they'd get together to watch the ball drop on someone's television - usually the Gilberts, because Miranda and Grayson always made it feel so homey and not empty. As they got older, they moved to Bonnie's because her father wasn't home and they could sneak a little champagne or wine to toast in the next year. Not often at Caroline's because Liz had to patrol and didn't want the girls home alone on such a night. They'd make plans for doing it. First it was going to be their eighteenth birthday, then their twenty-first when they could visit a New York city bar. Then came the vampires, the magic, the werewolves, the hybrids and all sorts of magic. Somehow, journeying to New York City and spending the night standing around the crowded Times Square with a bunch of half-drunk strangers became a childhood dream. A wish for a simpler, better time like wanting to have a princess dress or a pony.

    Or be prom queen.

    That thought makes her smile a bit more and she giggles.

    "It's different now," Bonnie says by way of explanation when she feels Matt's curious gaze on her. "We were different then. So much younger. So naive and innocent. That dream died back when those girls died."

    "Wow." Matt looks down at the bottle of beer in his head. "Not even drunk yet and you've already gone to maudlin." He peeks over at her, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth to let her know that he's teasing.

    Lifting the popcorn bowl to her lap, Bonnie elbows him. "Not maudlin. Truthful. I'm not sad over it. All right, maybe a little sad. That we didn't get the normal childhood and become the people we thought we would but in some ways, we're better now."

    "Better?" Matt's voice rises a few octaves in disbelief. He chokes a mirthless half-laugh. "You have a strange definition of better, Bon. Elena is some sort of Sleeping Beauty, Caroline is a vampire, Jeremy is off hunting vampires, Tyler is a werewolf and you - " He stops, shifts on the couch and looks at her. A hand reaches for her, hovers then lands on her shoulder. "You died, Bonnie. Twice. You could have died more times than that. Nothing about our lives is better. Sure, I'm happy that you're alive, that Jeremy is alive, that Tyler isn't some hybrid anymore but I wouldn't say that this is better."

    "Wouldn't you?" Bonnie reaches up and sets her hand atop Matt's. "Given the alternative, we're alive. We survived. We keep surviving and getting stronger. I miss my Grams. I miss my father. I miss the girl I used to be but I don't know that I could ever imagine being anyone other than who I am now." Her hand slides off of Matt's and Bonnie sighs heavily, slumping back and dropping her head against the back of the couch. "Though if I could pick one thing to change, Elena would be with us and not sleeping the rest of my life away."

    Matt snorts and takes a pull from the bottle of beer. "I blame Damon and Stefan." He holds up the bottle in lieu of holding up a hand. "Let me explain. All of the crazy around here started when they came to town. Everything was so normal and boring before then. Don't you sometimes miss that? Normal. Boring."

    "Sometimes," Bonnie admits. She takes a handful of popcorn and tosses it into her mouth. Her pause is thoughtful. "But sometimes I don't even know if I know what normal and boring are anymore." She steals his beer and takes a swallow, handing it back to him with a smirk. "I think it was inevitable. Even if Damon and Stefan hadn't come back, we were a supernatural weirdness time bomb waiting to happen. Katherine would have come seeking her doppelganger, Klaus would have come seeking Katherine . . . "

    "You think it was pre-destined? Fate?" Matt pretends to snatch the bottle back.

    "Some things, yeah, I do," Bonnie admits. "I'm a witch, no matter what. I might have thought my Grams was a drunk old crazy lady sometimes, but it was inevitable that I'd come into my magic. Tyler's anger issues? He was an accident waiting to happen no matter what. And Elena . . ." Bonnie frowns and reaches for her glass of water. Her thoughts on that are dark and a little morbid. In the grand scheme of things, she can't shake it, however.

    "Was living on borrowed time," Matt says softly. He doesn't look over at her when her head jerks up and snaps to stare at him in wide-eyed shock, but he nods. "You aren't the only one who's thought it. I think it's just that no one wanted to say it."

    "Yeah," Bonnie says. There's a pang of guilt at the words, the finally spoken acknowledgement of the words she doesn't want to give voice to. The guilt is not because she feels that way about Elena. She loves Elena like a sister, but sometimes she feels relief that her friend isn't here, that they're not worried everyday about what next threat will want to end Elena's life. She feels guilty that she doesn't feel guilty for the thought that sometimes slips in that maybe things would have been different if Stefan hadn't been on Wickery Bridge that night. That maybe Kai's spell is just the ending on a chapter that Elena should have had written in her autobiography a long time ago. Her time is borrowed here and now, but maybe not in another lifetime.

    "Now, we're maudlin," Bonnie declares. She pushes to her feet and heads toward the kitchen. "I think I need something stronger than water. Did you want another?" The last is called back over her shoulder.

    "No, I'm good with nursing this one. I have to patrol later, remember?" Matt calls back.

    Bonnie grabs a beer from the fridge and returns to the couch. She feels like there are eyes on her. Like somehow Elena has heard her words and her thoughts and is gazing on her with disapproval and heartache in her eyes. Worse yet, Bonnie feels a little disconnected. Like     she can't quite bring herself to care overly much. She should feel guilty for not feeling guilty, but it's like she told Damon all those months ago - she won't feel guilty for being happy to be alive.

    "Do you really have to?" Bonnie asks, leaning up against Matt's shoulder as she returns to the couch. "It's Mystic Falls. Without the heretics or anything else supernatural running around, what's really going to happen tonight when the clock strikes midnight? A few drunken shenanigans? Maybe someone streaking through the town square?"

    "I have a sacred responsibility. I took an oath and have a duty."

    "I think you just want to bust someone on New Year's Eve."

    "You have to admit that it wouldn't be the same if some yokel didn't get his name in the police blotter on New Year's Day."

 

#

 

    They're halfway through the movie and still more than an hour out from the ball dropping in Times Square when the knock sounds on the front door. Pausing the movie, Bonnie exchanges a concerned look with Matt. Everyone they know is in Times Square, unless it's Jeremy - who should be back in Denver - or Tyler who should be anywhere but here.

    "Oh c'mon then, Bennett. I know you and Deputy Fife are in there," Enzo calls loudly enough to be heard through the front door - and likely halfway down the block as well.

    "You invited Enzo?" Matt gapes at Bonnie.

    "No, I didn't invite Enzo . . . " But he's here, and Bonnie won't lie and say that there's not a part of her that's smiling inside to hear his voice. Even if he is disturbing the peace. Fortunately, she has a deputy in her pocket. "I'm going to let him in before someone calls the police."

    Matt smirks at her, and he's the only person Bonnie knows who can make a smirk look 'sweet.' "You do realize that I am the police, right?"

    Laughing and rolling her eyes, Bonnie heads to the foyer and opens the front door to a smirking Enzo. "You know you didn't have to be quite so loud. I don't think they heard you downtown."

    "Had to make sure your puny little human ears could make out my words," Enzo drawls. He leans against the door frame, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. He jerks his head toward the patrol cruiser in her driveway. "You have a wild party that had to be broken up, or are you trying to butter up the All American Deputy for the day when you do have that wild party?"

    "Matt came by to spend New Year's Eve with me," Bonnie says. She doesn't owe Enzo and explanation and they both know it, but she volunteers the information anyway. "He didn't think I should be alone."

    "A rare moment of shining intelligence breaks through the blond clouds, there. I daresay I do agree with that sentiment. So. . ." Enzo straightens up, resting both hands on either side of the doorframe. He leans toward Bonnie as much as that supernatural barrier to entry will allow. "If I recall, you said that if I came 'round to check on your well-being, and knocked, you would invite me in."

    "Is that what this is?" Bonnie can't help the slightly coy lilt that edges into her voice, or the way her smile turns up a notch. "A well check?"

    "Why subscribe to labels? Can't a friend stop by to visit a friend on a holiday evening?"

    Bonnie purses her lips for a moment, pretending to think it over. It's with a flourish that she steps aside and motions Enzo into her home. "Please come in, Lorenzo." She imagines that it's going to be a challenge keeping he and Matt from bickering and pressing one another's buttons, but at least it will mean her evening isn't boring.

 

#

 

    It's not yet midnight when the movie ends. Matt sighs and stretches, cutting a glance to Enzo who's stretched out in the arm chair beside the couch as though he owns it and belongs there. Bonnie isn't spending the night being a mediator as much as she thought she would when she invited Enzo in, and she's almost ashamed to admit that it's been an enjoyable night.

    "As much as I hate to say it, I'm going to have to duck out before the new year arrives," Matt says sadly. "Patrol isn't going to wait all night, and it's best to get started before the parties break."

    "Parties won't break until two or three in the morning, even in this backwater," Enzo points out over his bottle of beer. It's his fifth, Bonnie can tell because the empties are lined up on the coffee table in front of him. Knowing the metabolism of vampires, she also knows that he's nursing them along and not drinking to get drunk. He tilts his current bottle towards Matt, "Not that I'm begging you to stay."

    Matt frowns at Enzo, and his blue eyes move between Bonnie and the vampire. "I can stay awhile longer if you want me to, Bon."

    "But who'll stop the riff raff from running in the streets?"

    Bonnie shoots a glare at Enzo and turns her attention to her childhood friend. "I'll be fine. I'm not alone - "

    "Too bad," Matt mutters, interrupting her.

    Bonnie continues, pretending not to have heard him. " - And you can't put your job on hold because you're worried about me. Come on, I'll walk you out." It'll give him a chance to air his concerns, even though they both know that Enzo will hear everything they say.

    "Are you sure you want to stay here alone with him?" Matt asks when they're standing on the porch, the door closed behind them. "I can make him come with me."

    "You're going to make a hundred-year-old vampire leave with you?" Bonnie repeats just so that Matt knows how the words sound. "He'll dig in his heels just on general purpose if you even tried it. Unless you're going to vervaine him and drag him off?"

    "Don't tempt me," Matt half-growls.

    Bonnie swats him lightly on the arm, and blinks when he doesn't laugh. There's something stoic and hard - and cold - in his eyes as he glares at her front door as though he can see Enzo on the other side, and can pin the vampire there. "You're serious." A note of incredulity rings through her voice.

    "It's not often that I agree with anything Damon says or thinks, but this time I'll make an exception." Matt returns his gaze to Bonnie, and it softens toward his friend. "I don't trust him, Bonnie. I really don't trust him alone with you."

    "Damon and Enzo have more issues outside of Lily Salvatore." Bonnie sets her hands gently to Matt's arms and peers up at him.

    "I do too," Matt reminds her. "He's a complete wildcard."

    "So's Damon," Bonnie is quick to point out.

    "I still don't trust him either." Matt's response is sharp and quick, and it surprises Bonnie. She thought that maybe her friend had warmed a little bit to Damon after all this while, but she can see that he hasn't. "I know, you say that he's changed, and you trust him now and he's one of your best friends, but he's still Damon Salvatore. The vampire making himself comfortable in your house? He's the only one I trust less than Damon."

    "Enzo won't hurt me." Bonnie knows that. She feels it in her bones and her words come out with conviction. Enzo is many things, but even when they were dealing with Lily, even when he wouldn't act against her, he never acted against them either. It's not the most supportive endorsement, but it's not a bad one either.

    "You don't know that."

    "I do." Bonnie holds Matt's gaze and drops her hands to gather his. She squeezes them. "Trust me on this. Enzo isn't dangerous to me. Not tonight." She's not saying that if somehow Lily breaks free from the spell that binds her tomorrow that Enzo might not switch sides, and that they shouldn't all be wary then. But that's what could happen tomorrow, and not what's happening tonight.

    Matt stares at her for a long moment, right up until the moment Bonnie gives a small shiver in the wind. It's winter in Virginia, which means it's not a freezing cold night and they've had colder, but it's cold enough for there to be bite in the air when she's standing outside without a coat. "You should go in," Matt finally relents. "But call me if you need anything?"

    "I promise." She won't need anything, but if that will give Matt peace of mind, she'll give him her word. "Come by for breakfast in the morning."

    "You mean bring donuts. We both know that breakfast is not your strong suit." Matt's smile is weak, and his gaze shoots to the house again.

    "Fine, bring donuts." Bonnie shoos him down the stairs of the porch. "You can regale me with all the crazy drunk hijinks that you'll witness tonight."

    "Have a pot of coffee ready," Matt agrees, turning to leave. He reaches the bottom of the steps and looks back at her. "Strong coffee. I'm going to be up for a few long hours. Now go inside before you get sick and spend the next two weeks blaming me."

    Bonnie does, but she watches from the other side of the screen door until Matt climbs into his patrol car and drives away. She closes the door as the taillights grow smaller in the distance.

    "Thank god, I thought he'd never leave."

    Enzo's voice is directly behind her, at her shoulder and Bonnie blushes as she yelps and twists, pressing herself back against the closed door. Her hand goes to her chest and she glares at him. "I swear, you're worse than Damon. How many years are you trying to take off my life?"

    "Shh, luv. You spent so much time out there with Donovan that you almost missed it." Enzo fills her personal space, his body nearly pressed against hers. Close enough that when she inhales, her chest whispers in the barely there space between their bodies.

    "Missed - "

    Enzo quiets her with a finger pressed to her lips. "Listen."

    Bonnie is prepared to berate him and demand to know what he's talking about when her ears pick it up. The television is on the living room, tuned to some network or another airing the drop of the ball. The countdown grows louder with each descending number until it reaches the deafening crescendo that sounds in the new year.

    "Happy New Year, Bennett," Enzo whispers, removing his finger from her lips. Bonnie imagines that she can still feel the indention of it there, and realizes he's standing far too close, that his whispered words are a soft tingling warmth against her skin.

    "Happy New Year, Enzo." Her words are soft, and for reasons Bonnie can't quite identify, her heart is beating faster now than it did when Enzo startled her. She doesn't dare blink, watching him with curious eyes, a strangely familiar yearning warming her chest and then flowing to her belly. She knows she isn't imagining it when his gaze ducks to her lips, and she's not so terribly surprised when her eyes close and her head tilts up to meet his lips.

    It's not a hungry kiss or a demanding one. It's not so different from the one they shared on Christmas Day. Again, Bonnie registers the softness and warmth of Enzo's lips, the lingering taste of beer and popcorn on them. She registers the feeling of his body against hers, solid and lean muscle that presses her back against the front door. His tongue teases the seam of her lips and she allows him access. Bonnie's hand climb to wind in his hair and she shivers at the feeling of his hand settling to her waist and sliding to her hip. It urges her closer without urging her closer and there's a new, different sort of headiness that she's not felt before. Jeremy was a good kisser, but it was nothing like this, a sultry exploratory tango of the lips and tongue. A slow rise toward teasing intensity and then a dip that never lets it get there but leaves her wanting more.

    They're both breathless when the kiss finally breaks, and Bonnie fleetingly wonders why Enzo is breathless when he doesn't need to breathe. It's hard to hold onto a thought though when he's looking at her like she's some rare prize, and he can't decide whether to back down or push forward.

    Bonnie makes the decision for him. Surging forward and tugging him back to her, taking control of the kiss. It's intense and demanding, exploring his mouth like the uncharted territory that it is. Her nails scrape his scalp, his hand tightens on her hip enough to bruise, and the growl she feels and hears from him makes her respond with a throaty mewl of her own. Bonnie's hand scrabbles at his shirt, tugging to pull it up until she can press a palm to the bare skin of his abdomen and there's an odd noise of protest from her when Enzo rips his mouth away from hers.

    "Bloody hell, luv, let's slow it down," Enzo's words crack and break a little, rolled up in a hoarse chuckle. He dips his head, lips pressed to the side of her throat and where she should feel fear for having a vampire's mouth there, Bonnie only feels excitement and anticipation. The slow tingle of pleasure that goes from her neck to her groin at the brush of lips. "We've all night . . . and then some."

    He's true to his word about slowing things down. Ensconced in her bedroom, Enzo shows her just how erotic kissing can be, and how the mouth can be used to elicit so much anticipation and pleasure. Straddling his lap in the middle of her bed, their mouths seldom part and when they do, Bonnie takes great pleasure in knowing that her eyes must be as blown as his and her lips equally kiss swollen.

    Still fully dressed, Bonnie rests her forehead against his and catches her breath. She can feel the very prominent bulge in his pants telling her that she's affected him as much as he has her. Pressing a kiss to the bridge of his nose, Bonnie rolls her hips in a slow circle and presses down. One hand trails over his chest and down to the hem of his shirt.

    "Stop." Bonnie loves the hoarseness of Enzo's voice. He holds her hips with one hand and catches the roaming hand in his other.

    Bonnie stares at him. "You don't want - "

    "Oh but I do," Enzo says. The rooms shifts and spins and Bonnie finds herself flat on her back with Enzo leaning over her. He sweeps hair away from her face. "But you're well worth not rushing things with."

    Her questions and protests are swallowed in fresh kisses. This time Enzo doesn't remain single-mindedly focused on her mouth, but his kisses stray to her neck, teasing and tasting, testing until he finds the spots that make her gasp or sigh, and sink her fingers into his shoulder or his hair.

    When he  - finally - slides his hands against the skin beneath her t-shirt, Bonnie is nearly ashamed of the relief she feels and the loudness of her moan. His hands are warm where she expected cold, fingers nimble and skilled at exploration. She lifts up to wiggle the interfering material over her head and then blushes darkly when Enzo pauses to look down at her. One long finger traces the curve of her left breast and he drags his thumb over an already pert nipple that pushes against the thin silky material of her bra.

    "You're beautiful, Bonnie," Enzo says. Something about his voice and the way he says the words, like both a compliment and a caress sends a jolt right through her and has her insides fluttering. It's not just empty flattery and it does more for her than any words of empty flattery ever could.

    Lowering his head, Enzo follows his words with actions that echo how much he means them. He sprinkles kisses over the tops of her breasts, unclasping her bra and sliding it up and off of her body. Each nipple is given a soft, worshipful kiss to which Bonnie rewards him with soft, happy little mewls. When he nips at them with far more gentle teeth than she's expecting, her chest arches toward his mouth and his name escapes between her lips in a breathless chase of air.

    She's senseless with sensation, eyes closing and just feeling the moments in between Enzo's kisses. His tongue travels along a leisurely path from her breasts to her navel and circles there. That's never been an erogenous zone for Bonnie, that she knows of at least, but somehow Enzo's attention pulls a sound from her that's not quite a gasp and not quite a moan. She lifts her hips to aid him in pulling her yoga pants and panties down her hips. Embarrassment flares briefly that the panties she's wearing aren't exactly sexy but that shatters like glass on ground impact at the first hint of breath between her legs.

    By the time his tongue tastes her, there is nothing coherent in her mind anymore except his name on her lips and the repetitive pleadings of 'more' and 'oh god' and 'yes.'

 

#

 

    Bonnie isn't alone. Her car sits solitary in the driveway, but the moment that Damon unlocks the front door and permits himself entry into her house, he knows that she isn't alone. It's not just the sense of 'other' presence that tips him off either. There's a scent, cologne or aftershave, maybe both that doesn't belong to Bonnie although it's familiar. A pair of men's shoes stand haphazardly discarded in the route leading from the living room to the staircase. And when he listens, there are two heartbeats. One a good deal slower than the other.

    The last bit of knowledge carves a deep frown into Damon's face, and he sets the bag of groceries that he's carrying on the sideboard table inside the entry. He tells himself that he shouldn't make assumptions before he has answers, but even as he's mentally preparing himself, he's thinking of as many different ways as possible to make Enzo hurt.

    "Oh, it's you." Said focus of Damon's thoughts stops halfway down the stairs and slows to complete the final descent when he sees Damon.

    Damon takes one second to take in Enzo's mussed hair and shirtless state before he's grabbing the other vampire by the arms and slamming him into the nearest wall, hard enough to shake the house. He uses his lower arm against Enzo's throat to pin him in place, the other braced across Enzo's torture.

    "What the hell are you doing here?" Damon hisses.

    Enzo doesn't flinch in the slightest. He smirks at Damon. "I came over to spend New Year's Eve with Bennett. Thought maybe she could use a spot of company since both her besties ditched her to have fun in the big city."

    Damon presses his arm more tightly against Enzo's throat. "Bonnie chose not to go and you don't get to judge me. I'm going to ask you again, and then I start peeling layers off your body: what the hell are you doing here? I don't like you hanging around Bonnie."

    "Threats, Damon? That's all you've got?" The fact that Enzo isn't even the slightest bit perturbed or unnerved annoys Damon deeply. "Last I checked, Bonnie is an adult woman, allowed to make her own decisions and choose her own company. If she hadn't wanted me here, then she wouldn't have invited me into her home."

    "Did you sleep with her?" Damon presses the lower arm harder against Enzo's throat. It might not suffocate him, but it'll show that he means business. He really isn't above inflicting a little pain on Enzo to show him just how much he means it when he says that Enzo should stay away from Bonnie. "Is this part of some sick plan you have to get Lily free?"

    "Believe it or not, not all of us spend our entire lifetimes obsessed with one pretty face."

    Damon growls and draws his hand back, fully intending to drive it through Enzo's gut. He only halts at the sound of Bonnie's footsteps and her shocked shriek.

    "Oh my god, Damon! Enzo! What the hell is going on?"

    Enzo glances over Damon's shoulder up at Bonnie and then shifts his attention to Damon. He gives the other vampire a smirk of his own. "Why don't you ask Damon? He's the one assaulting me."

    Damon never takes his attention off of Enzo. He's told Bonnie that he doesn't trust him. No matter that Lily is locked up. Enzo made it clear that he wasn't on their side when Lily was free. Maybe he helped them escape and maybe he claimed to not be on Lily's, but Damon isn't risking his safety and security, or that of the people he cares about, on an unknown. He definitely isn't risking Bonnie. "Did he spend the night here?"

    "Not that it's any of your business," Bonnie steps into their space. Damon doesn't have to look at her, because he can feel her. The heat of her body pressing in, the energy of her presence. Her smaller hand wraps around his arm and gives it a tug. "Enzo and Matt came over to spend New Year's Eve with me. Matt had to patrol so he left. Enzo slept here last night. And I don't need a chaperone or a babysitter."

    Bonnie gives his arm a firmer, harder tug. "Let him go."

    "If you're inviting him into your home, maybe you do." Damon presses against Enzo's windpipe a final time, hard enough to take him down if he were human, and then backs off. He flips his attention to Bonnie, taking her in carefully. Looking for any signs of injury. Leaning forward he peers into those clear green eyes. Bonnie's emotions always show in her eyes. "You're all right?"

    "Do I look alright?"

    It's an honest answer, even if it isn't really answer. It's a good thing for Enzo; it means that Damon doesn't have to torture and murder him. This time. Damon isn't stupid, he knows that something went on here last night and that it had nothing to do with watching the New Year's celebrations on the television. He also knows Bonnie, and knows that whatever it was, it wasn't serious for her. Not yet.

    Damon fully intends to make certain it stays that way. He gets it; everyone needs to scratch an itch sometime. But there's an entire town and a college campus at Bonnie's disposal. If she's desperate enough to fall for Enzo's charms, he's clearly going to have to assume Caroline's bestie duties and show her how much better she could do and how much higher up on the scale of one-night stands she can climb. Hell, he's sure he can help her pick out the perfect booty call: someone good looking, but dumb, who'll only come when called, and most importantly, won't go sticking his nose into important supernatural business.

    "Fine." Damon dismisses, though he does turn to give a warning glare at Enzo.

    "Now that you're done attacking my house guest, why are you here? Shouldn't you be boozing it up in New York?"

    "Drove back after the bars closed." Damon shoulder checks Enzo as he moves past the younger vampire to retrieve his forgotten bag. "I'm making you breakfast. I'm sure you can see yourself out, Lorenzo."

   

#

 

    Bonnie watches Damon head toward the kitchen and places herself in Enzo's path as he goes to follow, giving a soft shake of her head. Setting the flat of her palm against Enzo's chest, her palm itches to stroke it. She can feel the energy and tension flare between them at that touch and her lips part in a sigh when he brings his hand up and sets it atop of hers.

    "Please tell me that the next words you say aren't going to be that last night was a mistake." Enzo's eyes flicker toward the kitchen, after Damon. "Especially not if it's because of Damon?"

    "No, I wasn't," Bonnie meets his gaze and licks her lips. Her eyes drop to his mouth and she instinctively steps closer. It's been a long time since she's felt like this, or had this draw to anyone. It feels good. It makes her feel like she's living instead of waiting to die. She hadn't realized how much she was missing it.

    "But there's something?" Enzo prompts, rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand. He takes his free hand strokes his thumb softly along her cheek and down to her throat.

    "I don't know what this is or what's happening between us, Enzo, but I want to find out." She nips at her lower lip and something flares inside of her when Enzo's gaze darkens and drops to her mouth and she feels the firmness and warmth of his hand on her hip drawing her closer.

    "So do I, luv. I haven't been chasing you for months to stop and give up when I might have finally caught you."

    Bonnie gasps a laugh. "Is that what you've been doing? I must have missed that."

    "I was keeping it subtle." Enzo tickles his fingers beneath the hem of her t-shirt, stroking the soft, sensitive skin just above the waistband of her yoga pants. "Didn't want to scare you off or have you stake me before I could plead my case."

    "Then you're a master of subtlety," Bonnie giggles.

    "It's a skill . . . " Enzo dips his head, and Bonnie automatically tilts her chin up, closing her eyes. The kiss is just what she expects, the soft exploration of lips as though he's kissing her for the first time, with a hint of urgency laced beneath it.

    "Enzo's not invited to breakfast." Damon's voice from the kitchen interrupts the mood and shatters the moment.

    As Bonnie breaks the kiss, Enzo growls. Bonnie stops him, reasserting the firm flat of her palm to his chest. "If we're going to do this, I need you and Damon to get along. I know that somewhere in your weird complicated relationship, you're still friends. He's just being protective."

    "Obsessive. Damon doesn't know where to draw the line."

    "I think . . ." Bonnie stops. She doesn't want to end this on a bad note. Damon's not the only one who gets a little obsessive about things and tends to run off the rails, but that's a conversation for another day. "Just let me handle Damon and call you later?"

    "Don't take too long," Enzo says after a long moment. "I know where you live and I don't plan on going down without a fight."

    "It won't come to that. I promise."

    With a final kiss goodbye, that leaves Bonnie's lips tingling and her wanting more, Enzo is gone. Bonnie leans against the front door, fingertips pressed to her lips and a smile on her face. Even the thought of dealing with Damon doesn't seem so bad.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! I've started a new story! No, this doesn't mean that I've abandoned my other one, it just means I've added more to my plate. I'll try to keep the updates as regular as possible, but unfortunately life is busy and has a way of eating me alive. I'll do my best however. 
> 
> Like my previous work, this started as a Nanowrimo project, and I'm so excited and completely in love with it. It's mapped out from beginning to end, but as I am lacking a beta reader or editor, I have to take care of that in my own time. Please comment and review, reviews are the fuel that keep my writing fires going.
> 
> Thanks so much for joining me on this new adventure!


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